Who Will Win a Million Galleons? | By : natloves16 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 2636 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. HP belongs to Rowling and the plot is based on the novel 'Q&A' by Vikas Swarup. No profit is being made from either works. They are owned by their respective authors. |
Title: Who Will Win a Million Galleons?
Rating: M
Summary: Draco joins a gameshow in
hopes of winning Hermione back. Inspired by Slumdog Millionaire/Q&A.
Notes: First, I would like to thank my
two lovely betas jen3227 and babelfisk.If you haven't read the novel or
watched the movie, I suggest you do. It is a really lovely story. :) Hermione's
dress below (as described) is patterned after a dress by Elie Saab, the one
worn by Marcia Cross. I will say no more, enjoy the story!
P.S Excuse the number of linebreaks in
this story!
The studio was set for action. The lights
were dimmed, the velvet curtain just waiting to be pulled. The jittery audience
awaits; a chorus of whispers echo around the room. A debate soon follows, no
one was sure if he could win the prize, but for their enjoyment's sake, they
hoped he would.
Just as the tension was about to reach
full throttle, the lights flashed brightly. The blinker that bore the sign applause
flickered for a short period of time before lighting its letters properly. The
audience applauded into a familiar rhythm, akin to that of the show's opening
song. The host walked across the stage with a well practised smile plastered on
his face. Suddenly, a loud voice echoed in the room.
“Welcome your host, Lee Jordan!”
The audience erupts with loud cheers. The
host began his usual preamble. “Good evening Witches and Wizards! And Welcome
to Who Will Win a Million Galleons!” followed by a burst of applauds; he waited
for a moment before continuing. “For tonight's show, our contestant will be
none other than Mr. Draco Malfoy himself and yes, I'm sure that the ladies are
familiar with him.” Giggles erupted amongst the audience.
“Come on out here, Mr. Malfoy!” Lee called
out.
The contestant came out, wearing a set of
black robes, looking sheepish. Yet, despite of that, there was still a sense of
pride that echoed along with his long and sure strides. He met with the show's
host, and shook his hand as another wall was lifted up, revealing two sets of
chairs and two divided Pensieves, one for each chair.
“All right, Mr. Malfoy; let's take in the
hot seats.” Lee said, gesturing towards the chairs. Draco followed suit and
seated himself comfortably on the red chair.
Lee composed himself for a few minutes and
began to speak, “Let me explain to you the mechanics of the game. You will try
to answer nine questions of different subjects, both Muggle and wizardry. If
you get them all right, you will then win a million galleons. If you find
difficulty in answering, you can use either of your lifeboats, friendly tip and
half-half. But only once are these available to you. By the time we reach the
sixth question, you have an option to go home with the money or carry on to the
rest of the questions. However, if you answer incorrectly, you will go home
with nothing.” He finished, smiling. “Let's begin.”
Draco knew the mechanics at heart; frankly
speaking, his mind was drifting into another place. He recalled the events that
brought him here, the events that forced him to participate in this stupid
bloody game show. This was her favorite though, and he had a sneaky feeling it
was because she knew all the right answers to the questions.
“Such a bloody know-it-all.” he
mused to himself.
Lee's voice broke him out of his reverie,
“Question #1 . . .” he announced, pausing briefly as it appeared in both the
pensieves,
“What do Muggles called dentists
specialize on? (A) Hair (B) Teeth (C) Toenails (D) Clothing.”
Draco took another moment to let his mind
wander . . .
Pansy was annoying the hell out of him
again, but judging by the subject of her inconvenience, this time it seemed too
be for all the right reasons.
“I'm telling you, Draco, they shouldn't
allow filthy Mudbloods to study in Hogwarts, let alone walk along the
corridors. It's just not right!” Pansy exclaimed, her hand making an outrageous
gesture in the air.
Draco smirked, delighted that at his
first year he was already going to bludgeon someone figuratively for not being
a pureblood. His father was sure to be pleased at this development.
“Pray, do tell Pansy, who are we bloody
talking about?” he asked, trying to mask his apparent exuberance over the
matter. He didn't want her to know and make him coax it out of her.
Pansy began to smile, apparently
pleased that she got his attention as much as he tried to hide it. “Hermione,
Hermione Granger.” she spoke her name with disgust. “She's in Gryffindor;
figures, everyone there is a bloody nitwit anyway. Have you seen that Neville?
It makes me wonder how he could walk without tripping on his own feet.” Pansy
finished, giggling.
But Draco wasn't listening to her
anymore, his mind has wandered off, and he was thinking of a million ways to
make Hermione Granger's life a living, breathing, hell.
A noise rudely interrupted his well
constructed reverie.
“I swear Ron, if you would just do your
bloody homework and not copy off mine; you could possibly get a decent grade.”
A girl said, her nose up in the air.
“B-but Hermione! I'll fail!” Ron exclaimed.
“Well that's you bloody pro-”
Draco took this as his opportunity to
strike, “Well, well, well. If it isn't muddy Granger, with poor Weasley boy. A
match made in heaven, don't you think, Pansy?” Draco sneered, not breaking his
eye contact off of his pursuit.
Pansy answered with a chorus of
giggles. Draco watched as the girl with bushy brown hair contort her face into
a million of different emotions.
Her red haired companion butted in,
“You just don't know how to shut up do you, Malfoy?” he taunted equally.
“I say. Weasley, you really outdone
yourself this time. Your robes look like the battered ones I gave up for
charity.” He smirked even wider.
Ron was at the edge of his patience
comparable to that of a teaspoon, “Why you-!” he exclaimed, but Hermione held
on to his arm, preventing him from a total outburst.
“Let it go. A prefect may catch us, we
can't risk losing house points for something as trivial as this,” she said
haughtily, glaring at Malfoy. He could feel her anger bubbling like a potion in
a hot cauldron, it was obvious she wasn't the best at hiding her emotions.
He pulled his best sneering face, “I
don't suppose you're any better. I bet your Muggle parents ate grovel to send
you to Hogwarts,” he said, the venom in his voice embedded in every syllable.
She held her head high, her eyes
reduced to slits because of anger, “They're dentists.” she said, replying
curtly. She then gave him a strong venomous look, before dragging away a
flustered Ron beside her.
That night, for the first time ever in
his short stay at Hogwarts, Draco visited the library, shelf LQ, row two,
Muggle section, on occupations, and found out exactly what Hermione Granger was
talking about.
“B. The answer is B.” Draco said his eyes
wistful as he remembered the first time they met.
“Are you absolutely, one hundred percent
sure of your answer?”
“Yes,” he answered firmly.
A suspenseful music played, the audience
was silent.
“Then you are absolutely, one hundred
percent, correct! You now have one thousand galleons! How does that feel, Mr.
Malfoy?” the host asked, hoping for an animated answer from him.
“Thrilling.” Draco said his voice dry.
Lee Jordan smiled, his eyes belying his
true emotions. “Then let's move on to Question #2 . . .”
“So Draco, are you familiar with your
Quidditch moves?” he asked, “I hope you are, because that is going to help you
regarding this one.” he said.
Draco couldn't help but not listen as
another memory took over him.
“Baby?” his girlfriend of a year and a
half called out from their bedroom. As much as he wanted to attend to her
needs, he couldn't stop himself from checking out the latest bids for the
Quidditch match of the century. It was the Falmouth Falcons and the Bulgarian National
team for the World Cup; the prospect of his favorite team winning and trashing
Viktor Krum's team to annihilation was gnawing at his soul.
“Coming . . .” he called out, clearing
his desk after looking at the bids. He was ready to call it a night. He was
about to lock the files in his drawers when he felt her soft, warm figure
envelop him from behind.
Draco smiled despite himself, “You
shouldn't have gotten up, I was about to go to bed anyway,” he chastised. He
felt her hug him tighter.
“It's always Quidditch for you huh,
Malfoy?” she teasingly complained, her lips curved into a smile on his back.
He turned to face her, enfolding her
small frame into his arms, “You know I only have you and the bed as a sport, a
man needs excitement from time to time,” he teased, while trailing soft kisses
along the crevice of her neck.
She pinched him lightly on the side,
“Oh, so I don't give you excitement?” she asked, while combing her fingers
through his soft blond locks.
He left her neck as he whispered softly
in her ear, “Wrap your legs around me . . .” he ordered, lifting her bum so she
could wrap her legs around his torso. She was wearing one of his shirts again,
and it never failed to turn him on.
“Do you want to remove my shirt, baby?”
she asked, her eyes teasing him as she clung onto his neck. His hands quickly
skimmed under the flimsy fabric of his shirt, feeling her shudder.
“It's my shirt . . .” he said quietly,
walking towards the sofa as his girlfriend squealed in annoyance.
“I thought we were heading to the
bedroom!” she complained, hitting his shoulders softly with closed fists.
“No, we're going to learn Quidditch.”
His voice was full of mirth, “It’s about time you learn, Granger,” he drawled,
using that tone she knew so well.
She squirmed into his arms as he
unceremoniously dropped her into the sofa.
“I don't want to learn about Quidditch.
I want to have SEX,” she said angrily, crossing her arms.
Draco grinned like a foolish school
boy, “Oh, we're getting there,” he claimed, flopping beside her.
“Sit on my lap,” he told her, hearing
her grunt beside him, but saw her smile at his request. He liked that about
her, on how she couldn't go on without kissing or cuddling him within a day.
She kissed him softly on the mouth,
“Okay, professor. Teach me about it . . .” she said, moving her position as she
faced him, her legs on either side of his.
“What do you know about Quidditch?” he
asked.
She removed her shirt, revealing her
bare chest to his eyes. “It has a Seeker, and his main objective . . .” she
trailed off, pushing herself closer to his burgeoning erection, “is to locate
the golden snitch.”
Draco couldn't help himself as he
pinched a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, earning a gasp from her.
“Very good, Ms. Granger. I'm very impressed by how you displayed you array of
Quidditch knowledge,” his voice was heavy with arousal.
“Care to impart me with more knowledge?
You know a professor has to listen to his students once in a while . . .” his
voice trailed off as his mouth captured her left nipple, his right hand
possessively grabbing the other breast while his left hand was on her waist,
making circles around the exposed skin.
“Ahh . . .” she moaned, struggling to
find her words. “1921 . . . Plumpton . . . he . . . Oh . . .” she moaned again,
unable to continue as he suckled on her breast forcefully, leaving marks on the
surface. The hand that was on her waist found its way to her navel, his thumb
gently teasing her folds once.
“He what, Granger? Come on, tell me . .
.” he murmured, finding his pajama bottoms soaked from where she was sitting.
He trailed a batch of wet kisses along her neck, his hands now skimming along
her back, finding her bum and smacking it loud.
“Draco!” she moaned loudly as he
switched their positions. She was now spread wantonly on the sofa with Draco
eying her so deviously, stroking her wet slit with his forefinger.
“Fastest . . . Catch . . . Snitch . . .
Up his sleeve!” she exclaimed, as he ran a digit on her love bud, making her
squirm in every way possible.
“What's that, baby? Can't understand
you . . .” he murmured softly, going down on her as he reached her drenched
folds, his hot breath fanning her sex so deliciously.
“He. . . . He . . .” she didn't get to
finish as he attacked her folds hungrily. And all caution was thrown out of the
window.
“Mr. Malfoy? What is your answer?” The
host asked rather loud, breaking his delicious train of thought.
“Can you repeat the question?” he asked,
blushing a bit for acting out on a daze.
The audience giggled.
“Seems like we lost Mr. Malfoy there . .
.” Lee said, allowing himself a little chuckle. “Well, here is your question:
Who is the Seeker responsible for the fastest Snitch catch in history? (A)
Viktor Krum (B) William Woodsworth (C) Roderick Plumpton (D) Kelli Lordfly.”
“The answer is C,” he answered, smiling as
he remembered.
“Are you absolutely, one hundred percent
sure of your answer?” Lee asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you are absolutely, one hundred
percent, correct! You are now two thousand galleons richer!” Lee exclaimed.
Draco simply smiled.
“Hermione?” Ginny called out, her voice
was full of surprise.
“In a minute!” she exclaimed from the
bathroom. She wondered what may have caused the nervousness in Ginny’s voice.
She wrapped herself in her bath robe, sighing to herself softly as the constant
dull pain in her heart made itself known again.
She made her way to the living room, where
a magical version of a Television was situated. Her eyes settled on Ginny's
face, whose eyes were glued on the scene; her mouth open in shock.
She turned her eyes on the cause of
Ginny's surprise.
“Oh Merlin . . .” her voice trailed off as
she watched Draco Malfoy's face smile.
“You have now won two thousand galleons.
Let's see if you can add up in your total.” Lee said. “Question #3. . . . Which
creature leaves a trail of dung during the mating dance? (A) Mooncalf (B) Pixie
(C) Niffler (D)Murtlap”
“Bloody hell, Granger, its five a.m!
Classes don't start until eight!” Draco exclaimed, running a hand through his
unruly fringe. He hadn't had time to fix it, much to his chagrin. Granger
apparently set an alarm charm that wouldn't go away unless he crept out of his
bed and made his way to the forbidden forest.
He knew that the moment Professor
Sprout announced that they were going to be partners for Herbology, it would be
a living hell for him. He wasn't wrong.
Truth be told, he was still wearing his
pajamas under his school robes.
“It's for our Herbology project,
Malfoy, and hadn't I known that Professor Sprout will be monitoring our every
progress, I would have done this myself,” she said, her tone venomous.
“Shut it Granger, and just tell me what
we're looking for.” He complained while still trying to fix his mane.
Granger pulled out a notebook, “We are
looking for a Mooncalf. It only comes out during a full moon. We need to
collect its dung for culturing just before the sun rises-”
“Say what. Granger? I am not touching
bloody dung!” he exclaimed, angry at what she was subjecting him to.
Hermione closed her eyes for a brief
moment, attempting to control her temper. “After its ritual mating dance, we
will collect the dung. Just so you know, I don't bloody care about your
preferences regarding this matter.”
Draco was about to retort back when he
saw the creature in question. It began advancing towards the field, and started
its fascinating dance, leaving a trail of silvery dung behind.
No sooner than later, the sun has begun
to shine. The Mooncalf returned to its burrow, and they were to collect the
traces left behind.
“You owe me so much, Granger, I swear
if father hears about this, you will find yourself and Professor Sprout in
situations you both hardly imagined to be in,” he taunted.
“I hope you do your best, Malfoy,” she
replied, slipping in a pair of Muggle gardening gloves. “Here, you have to wear
this unless you want to feel it firsthand.” She threw the gloves to him.
“I'm not using anything Muggle,” he
hissed, throwing the gloves on the ground.
“Suit yourself.” Hermione dismissed,
“Since her trail is a circle, I will collect the traces on half of the circle,
and you do the other,” she instructed, going down on her hands and knees as she
grabbed samples of the dung.
He grumbled before going down on his
hands and knees. Much to his chagrin, he picked the discarded gloves up and
grasped them in his palms. He was never going to slip those things on.
He slowly made his way across the
semi-circle, picking up the dung with disdain while occasionally throwing in a
curse word or two.
“Stupid mudblood Granger.” He mused to
himself. “Making me do this bloody disgusting-”
“Mmph!”
And at that precise moment, as Draco
Malfoy was busy thinking to himself and going beyond his assigned semi-circle;
Hermione Granger, his partner of one and a half days, got caught in a position
between standing and sitting as their lips met.
And that was that.
“The answer is A.” Draco answered, his
voice taking an indescribable tone.
“Are you absolutely, one hundred percent
sure of your answer?” Lee asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you are absolutely, one hundred
percent, correct!” Lee said, “Count yourself lucky, for you now have five
thousand galleons!” he exclaimed. “You are now three questions closer to a
million galleons.” Lee announced.
Lee smiled at him, “Okay, let's bring out
question number four,” he said. “For ten thousand galleons . . .” he said, his
voice trailing off on Draco's ears.
“It won't be long now...” he
thought to himself.
Hermione buried her face in her hands as
she heard Lee Jordan's voice announce that Draco Malfoy got the right answer
for five thousand galleons. After her initial shock, Ginny led her to the couch
and proceeded to rationalize her former lover's actions.
“I can't believe he would do something
like this! What is he trying to pull of anyway?” Ginny said exasperatedly.
“I don't know. . . .” Hermione murmured
quietly, her face still buried in her hands. “I don't know. . . .” she repeated.
Ginny rubbed her back in soothing circles,
“Bloody arsehole . . .” she murmured. “The nerve of that bastard . . .” she
told Hermione with disdain.
Hermione finally raised her head from her
hands, still wondering how that after two years since he walked out on her, he
had managed to waltz back into her heart and make her feel again.
“I can't dance Draco . . .” Hermione
complained, moving out of his arms. He caught her fast, not letting her go.
“I know you can't baby . . .” he
whispered, holding her tighter. “That's why I'm here to teach you.” He said,
softly. They were at the balcony of his villa in Florence, their first vacation in a year. He
had managed to get her to agree to go away for a week, seeing how the demands
of her job were taking a toll out on her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck,
pulling him in for a kiss. “I love you.” She said in between kisses, “Thank you
for stealing me away . . .” she said softly.
He broke the kiss, “Always my pleasure,
love.” He said, combing a stray hair that covered her her eye. “Now how about
you get those feet moving . . .” he urged.
She pouted, “I am not going to DANCE. I
might as well step on your feet right now, if you insist I do this.” Hermione
warned.
“Alright then, I'll carry your feet,”
he murmured while lifting her up, placing her feet atop of his. “How's that
feel, Granger?” He asked.
“Better. So long as I won't break your
toes.” She teased him.
He began to move slowly, supporting her
by the waist. A soft music suddenly filled the backdrop, complimenting their
sweet moment together.
“Oh, wandless magic . . .” she
whispered, “Impressive, Mr. Malfoy.” She announced to him as she kissed him
squarely on the mouth, careful not loosen her grip on his neck.
“Only for you, Mrs. Malfoy . . .” he
said very quietly, so much that she almost didn't hear it.
Hermione looked at him strangely, “Are
you playing with me, Draco?” she asked, her voice suspicious.
“Never, Granger . . .” he said softly.
He took the hand that was resting on his and laid it on his own cheek. “You
know what to say. Say you'd make me happy.”
Under the moonlight, as soft music was
playing in the background, Hermione Granger made Draco Malfoy the happiest man
on Earth, all the while dancing the foxtrot with her feet atop of his.
“Question #4,” he said, pausing for a bit.
“Who is the originator of the muggle dance foxtrot? (A) Henry Troy (B) Henry
Fox (C) Henry Foxtrot (D) Harry Stevens?”
Draco contemplated for a bit before
answering, “The answer is C.”
“Are you absolutely sure of your answer, Mr.
Malfoy?”
“Yes.”
“Then I'm afraid,” he paused dramatically,
“that you have just won yourself ten thousand galleons!” Lee exclaimed. “We
will be right back after these short messages!” he said as the velvet curtain
closed.
Draco sat still on the chair, pinching the
bridge of his nose. Lee Jordan, the show's host, had just taken a short recess.
He couldn't help but remember how he left
her that day. She had looked so beautiful, so fragile, and so ready. It haunted
him, tacked down on his insecurities, his fears. He couldn't handle the truth
that she loved him only because he was too busy criticizing himself. He should
have known that it didn't matter, who he was and the things he has done. It
didn't matter to her.
He walked out on her like a coward. He left
her standing there all alone. Every day for the past two years of his
seclusion, he managed to glue himself back together, piece by piece, so he
could arrive at this today. He spent days and hours planning to see her again,
to let her understand why he needed to go. He figured that it would probably be
hard, but he would die trying.
After two years of piecing himself back
together, this was the most he could do. He wasn't as ready as he thought he
was. But this time, he now knew that they could face them, together.
“I can't do this . . .” Hermione said,
leaving the sofa as she rushed back to her room. It was all too much for her,
seeing his face after being apart for so long. Her heart broke as she
remembered his face, almost too close for her to touch but never quite reaching
enough.
She felt angry and betrayed at the same
time. Angry at him for everything, betrayed because she had stupidly hoped that
he would try to find her. But she knew in her heart that she couldn’t deny the
feelings she still has for him.
Hermione heard a knock on the door.
“Hermione?” Ginny called her voice small and full of concern.
Hermione breathed deeply as the first tear
rolled on her cheek, “I-I can't. . . . W-Why does it still h-hurt?” she asked,
leaning down on the door, her body wracked with sobs.
Ginny grimaced from the other side of the
door; she really didn't know what to answer with. She had foolishly thought
that she had moved on, seeing as she was trying to live her life the best way
she could. She felt superficial for thinking that that was enough.
“Hermione . . .” Ginny finally spoke, “Do
you want to see him?” she murmured softly, awaiting her answer.
A long silence filled the room.
“Welcome back to Who Will Win a Million
Galleons! We are now back with Mr. Draco Malfoy, who had just won ten thousand
galleons!” the audience clapped, “Are you now ready for Question #5, for fifty
thousand galleons?” Lee asked.
“I am.” Draco answered.
“Alright.” Lee said. “Question #5. . . .
What flower is usually included in Muggle painter Diego Rivera's artworks? (A)
Rose (B) Venus Fly trap (C Jasmine (D) Calla Lily.”
It had been two days since the
incident.
And Hermione was at the end of her of
her stick.
She ran two fingers over her lips
absently, still thinking of their accidental kiss. It was so soft and chaste.
Her first time. It would have been perfect, she thought; only if it hadn't been
Draco Malfoy.
Hermione shook her head from side to
side, trying to get rid of her thoughts. She couldn't deal with this right now.
She had an assignment to finish. With that having been said, she picked up her
discarded quill and began to write. The library was closing in an hour. She
personally didn't like working on her assignment in the common room.
In a minute or two, she was completely engrossed
in her work. She heard the chair in front of her being pulled out. Knowing that
the library was deserted at this hour, she wondered who it could be. She raised
her head from her parchment and muffled a startled gasp when she saw who it
was.
“This is almost too easy.” Draco
drawled, “If you're going to hide, Granger, at least make it a challenge for
me,” he said smirking. He was sitting across from her, his feet propped on that
table, his hands on the back of his head. He looked smug and relaxed.
She had been so careless. She felt her cheeks burn.
“Oh don't worry . . .” he said, “I've
been here long enough to see your hand on your lips.”
She couldn't speak. An even
stronger blush hit her, and she felt like she was boiling.
“Face it Granger, you kissed me.” he said, smirking.
He removed his feet from the table and leaned in toward her; crossing his arms
under his chin and simply looked at her with mischievous eyes.
She felt her control snap, “Kiss you?!”
she asked, incredulous. “It was a bloody accident! And it was your fault, too.
You never listen, Malfoy,” she said angrily. “But then again, it’s because you
think you're so aristocratic!” She huffed, looking away.
“But it felt good, didn't it?” Draco
asked playfully. “Admit it, Granger. I'm a fantastic kisser.”
“You wish,” she said, still looking
away from him.
“Care to try?” He asked.
Her mouth felt dry at this point, her
palms beginning to sweat. She needed to leave now before she'd do something
stupid. Immediately, she began packing up her things. She could still feel him
looking at her.
“Leaving now? I don't think so.”
Everything happened so quickly. The next thing she knew, his arms were around
her waist, pushing her close to his body. Her possessions were scattered on the
floor, forgotten.
He lifted her chin, looking deep into
her eyes. “You don't leave when I'm talking, Granger.” And, with that, he
kissed her. She sighed as she felt his soft lips upon hers. It felt good, even
better than the first time.
She wound her hands into his hair. Taking
in as much of him as she could, She felt his tongue probing her lips, begging
for entrance. She opened her mouth, and their tongues melded together,
wrestling for dominance. She felt herself moan in the kiss. He was a fabulous
kisser, better than anything she had ever tasted.
And all too soon it was over. He was
looking at her with an intensity that left her breathless; they were both
panting and flushed. Her eyes looked glazed, her cheeks red.
He ran a finger over her reddened
cheeks. “You’re blushing . . .” he murmured softly.
“I am not.” She claimed, but without
strength.
He released her slowly and began to
pick up her discarded things. She still stood there, dazed. She felt him hang
her book bag on her right shoulder.
“The library is closing in five.” He
said, giving her a soft kiss. “See you, Granger.” Then he left.
It took another three minutes before
she gathered herself and exited her beloved library.
Having been unable to finish her
assignment, she faced the inevitably of a night in the common room. She opened
her book bag and much to her surprise, found a flower, a Calla Lily to be
exact. There was a short note attached to it.
'Diego Rivera. The Flower Vendor. I
know it’s your favorite. I did some snooping around, and it was the only thing
that Lavender could give me. Don't worry; I gave her the wrong impression.
D.M'
“It was that day . . .” Draco
thought to himself.
“What is your answer, Mr. Malfoy?”
“D. The answer is D.” Draco said, looking
at Lee straight in the eye,
“Are you absolutely, one hundred percent,
sure of your answer?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you are absolutely, one hundred
percent, correct!” he exclaimed. “Just one more and you can finally relax with
one-hundred thousand galleons . . .” Lee said, his eyes animated. “If you get
this right.”
“Alright . . .” Draco answered.
Hermione's knees and legs hurt. She
propelled herself further, using the strength in her legs. She had been running
for the past five minutes, trying to reach the latest apparition point in time.
She didn't know what she was doing, but she knew that she needed this. Images
of him flooded her mind, invading and gnawing at her very soul.
“Are you sure about this, Hermione?” Ginny
asked, breathless from running.
“I don't know. I just—” she paused
gathering her energy. “I want to see him,” she said, pausing as she reached
their destination.
“Well, we're here.” Ginny announced.
“Their wards are secure, but we can try and coax the guard outside to let us
in.” Ginny's suggestion was perfect.
Hermione took a second and composed
herself. In a matter of seconds, she would see him. She would see him after two
years, his face, his soft blond hair. Her heart hurt, but she knew that the
moment she'd see him, even if only for a fleeting moment, that it would be all
worth it. Maybe, just maybe, she could use that moment to finally move on and
start a new life. Without him.
“Ready, Hermione?” she asked.
Hermione nodded.
In a resounding pop, they were
gone.
She looked so beautiful, even during
sleep.
They had a long day today. Hermione had
picked out her wedding dress. He wasn't sure at first if he was at par to
accompany her. He has always thought that picking a wedding dress was something
girlfriends do. But she wouldn't take no for an answer. She told him that she
wanted him to see and be the one to choose for her. She didn't do these things,
she said. And she had always thought that he knew her best.
They spent the whole day searching for
the one, going through dozens of Muggle and wizarding bridal shops. She
patiently tried on every dress that he picked, also trying on the ones that the
shopkeeper chose. But nothing seemed right; she was visibly upset that the day
was closing and she hadn't found a dress.
He had jokingly said that they could
look in a Muggle thrift shop. It was in there, that they saw what they were
looking for. It was an antique looking tube dress, the upper part was adorned
with fabric shaped as leaves and had a soft pink satin sash around the waist.
It was knee-length in a billowing tulle skirt. She gasped when she saw it.
Without even bothering to try it on and a thousand pounds later, they brought
it home.
He helped her try it on, it fitted
perfectly. He said she looked beautiful. She kissed him with glassy eyes until
he couldn't breathe. After five minutes, the wedding gown was discarded on the
floor, having been sidetracked by other things. She slept soundly
afterwards, and he had been watching her ever since.
He couldn't rid his mind of the images
of her wearing the dress. He felt a little lurch of uneasiness. Was he ready to
do this? Could he make her happy? A dozen questions flooded his mind. He knew
in his heart that he was a damn lucky bloke, but he couldn't shake himself of
the insecurities.
His thoughts were interrupted as she
stirred in her sleep. Her eyes opened slowly, blinking twice to rid herself of
the growing tiredness around her. She smiled at him.
He was unsure.
“Tell me Mr. Malfoy . . .” Lee smiled.
“What brought you here, to Who Will Win a Million Galleons?” he asked. “Is it
about the money?”
It was an obligatory question; he was now
at the sixth round. The one that can seal the deal for one hundred thousand. He
couldn't care less about that; he was just here for one reason.
“I'm here for someone.” He answered.
“A someone? Is it your mother? A sister
perhaps?” Lee asked. “Are you playing for charity?”
Draco shook his head. “I was hoping that
she'd see me. . . . And that she'd know that I'm okay.” He answered softly.
“I'm sure she'll know, Mr. Malfoy.” he
said, his voice filled with sureness. “After all, everybody in the wizarding
world watches this show.”
Hermione was shaking him awake, “Draco!
Come on, wake up.” she said, rocking his shoulder. “It’s on . . .” he heard as
he awoke from his slumber.
He had been watching the show with her;
it was something that they did together. She had always managed to beat him,
but it was okay, as long as it made her happy.
“I'm up now, baby,” he said as he rose
from the bed.
“I'll race you to the living room.”
Hermione announced her voice full of mirth.
Draco smiled as he watched his fiancée
go about her way. He still couldn't shake off the feelings that were starting
to overtake him. He knew he loved her. But why was he feeling this way? He was
so sure when he asked for her hand, but now, he just didn't know.
He wasn't sure of this, of the normalcy
in their lives. It was, well, too good to be true. Everything was bound to end,
and that eventuality scared him so much. He wasn't sure if he would measure up.
“Baby?” he heard her call out from the
living room.
He shook his head, he couldn't let her
know. “Coming, love,” he said, his voice shaken.
“Question #6, for one-hundred thousand
galleons . . .” Lee paused dramatically, “Who is—”
A voice erupted from the room. “Malfoy!”
It was Ginny. On the floor beside her were two guards, her wand drawn. “She's
outside. You have to see her!” She shouted.
The audience broke out in whispers. Lee
was surprised but kept his face calm.
Draco's heart was beating in his ears. She
was there. Just outside, for him. He didn't know what to say or do; his mouth
felt dry, his palms cold with sweat.
“See your someone.” He turned as he heard
Lee speak, “We still have two other contestants. I'm sure the public would
understand. They are suckers for these kinds of things.” Draco nodded as Lee
proceeded to do damage control.
He nearly jumped out of his seat as he ran
the way Ginny pointed. He couldn't believe it. He was going to see her.
“I'm here now . . . Hermione . . .”
“Get me out of this dress.” she ordered
Ginny, she was trying to muffle her sobs. She was a strong girl. She could do
this.
He wasn't there. He broke her heart. He
didn't come. There weren't any warning signs. In a flash, he was gone. He left
their flat the way it was, not even moving a single piece of furniture.
He left her.
Her back was turned to him.
His knees felt weak, his mouth dry. The
length of their separation was starting to dawn on him, more forcefully this
time. She was actually here, she came for him. He didn't know what Gods to
thank, but she was here and that was enough.
She spoke before he could. “Why did you
leave like that?” she shouted. He could notice a hitch in her voice; she was
trying not to cry.
“Look at me, Hermione . . .” he requested.
“Look at me.”
“What makes you think that you have the
right to ask me for anything?” She shouted, bringing the back of her hand to
wipe a tear. “You don't get to leave and come back like nothing happened. You
broke me, Draco. You broke me!” her last vestiges of control were starting to
slip. She couldn't hold it in anymore.
He had no answer for that. What else could
he say? He was a coward; he let his fears get the best of him.
“I'm not that man, Hermione.” he said, his
voice soft. “I'm not that man who is sure of things.” He swallowed a lump in
his throat. “I am always unsure, always unready. That's why I took it in myself
to leave, to try and change so I could be what is expected of me to be. I know
it was selfish, but I wanted you to be happy. I've always wanted you to be
happy.” Draco trailed off, moving closer to her back.
She turned to him, her eyes glassy with
unshed tears. “I have never asked you to be anything or to be anyone . . .” she
murmured. “I know you can't sweep me off my feet, and I'm not that kind of
girl, either. I don't believe in fairy tales, but I believed in us. I tried to
believe in us.”
“I know that now.” he closed his eyes; it
broke his heart to see her like that. “I was selfish, and it was wrong of me. I
know. But you have to believe me, believe that I thought it was for the best at
the time. I've never stopped loving you Hermione . . .” he said. “Please
believe that too.”
He then felt cold hands cup his cheek,
“And you have to appear on national wizarding cable.” She murmured. “I believe
that Draco. I still believe in us, I never stopped. I never stopped. I'm
willing to give us another chance. Don't hurt me again, prove to me that you
left and came back a better man.”
He held her hands that were still resting
on his cheeks. His eyes still closed. “I will Hermione . . . this time, I'll do
it right. I won't mess-”
She put a finger between his lips to quiet
him. “No, you will make mistakes. Everybody do, but know,” he opened his eyes.
“That I won't ever stop loving you, no matter how much you mess up, it is you
who makes me happy.”
With that, he kissed her. He kissed her
with all he had, pouring in the two years without her in that one single kiss.
She still felt the same way against him. She. the same person that made his
heart skip a beat, that same person whose body was molded against his. She felt
so soft in his arms, and he would never let her go.
After that episode, Who Will Win a Million
Galleons earned a huge following. And so did Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.
Dozens of owls from magazines, and newspapers filled their little flat. But
they didn't bother to answer them. Neither wanted fame. So in the end, everyone
just gave up. The owls ceased from one or two per day, until it virtually
disappeared altogether.
Draco and Hermione couldn't care less.
They were content in their own little world, which included dancing with her
feet atop of his, him proposing once more, and her saying yes.
THE
END
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