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Chapter 1 : Hello, Goodbye.
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The autumn girl has highs and her lows; a simple life is not what she knows. Struggling, not coping and mourning the dead, she stumbles across a boy with a blonde head. A lion, roaring, defending oneself. A joyous occasion is it not. A life full of pain, will it come to a stop?
A boy with the blondest of hair will be lost in his way, matted and battered from his loveless childhood, defeating his way through life, he struggles. Tormenting and suffering is all the serpent knows. Upon this joyous occasion does he yet realise, it is the start of the rest of his life, little does he know what is yet to come, to travel to a world where all has not been done.
But one will have to make a choice.
Destiny’s magic is stronger than any muggle trick or wizard charm, love is bound, never together. A proposition will be made, choices affecting the rest of the world.
A lion and a serpent never bound never together, connect in ways to be together forever no, destiny’s magic is stronger than ever, to keep them apart, to endeavour.
Hermione plumped herself down on the bar stool. Wiping her eyes with the back of her fingers, she looked up at the awaiting bar tender.
“A fire whiskey,” she muttered, giving up on her manners for once. It had been a hard day; surely she was allowed off once? Hermione handed the man some money and received the drink.
“Here.” He put it down hard on the counter.
She looked up at the familiar man, who she guessed was in his early thirties, he looked like he had seen a lot.
“What’s your name?” the inquisitive brunette asked him, not really thinking about why she was asking. Her struggling voice came out low.
“Gellert. Why?” his voice was ruff and husky like he smoked thirty cigarettes a day.
“No reason. Thanks.” She tipped the glass ever so slightly and took a sip. For a twenty-four year old, she sure as hell felt a lot older.
The young fragile woman got up from the bar stool that she had occupied and went and sat in a booth. She fixed her black shift dress, smoothing out the creases and looked out the window, no emotion showing on her face. Honestly, she couldn’t be bothered to show any emotion.
How could she? The only emotion she was feeling was emptiness. Hermione felt hollow to the core. I mean, how could she feel anything else when she had just buried her only father?
Hermione took a swig of her drink and brushed the hair out of her tear stained face. She looked into her glass at the amber liquid, it tasted slightly weird. Why does it taste more bitter than it should do?
But her thoughts were interrupted by a shuffle of movement in front of her. She looked up to the other side of the booth she was sitting at and saw a man; a man she hadn’t seen in six years; a man the Gryffindor once hated; a man she possible still hated.
Draco bloody Malfoy.
“Well well well, never thought I would see the day Hermione Granger sitting a wizard pub by herself, drinking,” he sniffed, “a firewhiskey, impressive Granger.” he raised his eyebrows. “In a black, dull boring dress, without Potter or the boyfriend.” He smirked.
“What do you want Malfoy?” she asked dully, not really caring about his immature attitude to make observations about everything.
He took a deep breath. “What do I want…what do, I, want? Well, I would like to get married someday to a woman worthy of the Malfoy name, I also want a rocket ship to go to Mars and for this drink to be nicer but none of that is going to happen.” He smirked again.
Already she could feel herself getting annoyed at the man sitting in front of her. “Please, just leave me alone.” The fatherless woman was too tired to deal with him. I just want to be alone.
She looked up at him from her glass; he looked back curiously, not with the disgust everyone used to see on his face all those many years ago.
“Why?” he droned.
She sighed, the pain of telling him bringing on a new batch of tears that she didn’t want to escape. “If you must know,” she managed to get out, “I buried my father, so please, just go.” She looked back down into her glass, drinking a sip.
He narrowed his eyes. “Why isn’t Weasley with you?”
She sighed once more. Why can’t he just leave me alone? Doesn’t he get that? I swear to Merlin, I will apparate out in a minute.
“Why would he be with me Malfoy?”
“Isn’t he your husband or something?”
She nearly spat out the drink. “What, no! We’re not married! It’s complicated, I told him to leave me alone today. So he has no reason to be with me here. Look, I don’t really want to explain my life story to you of all people. Goodbye Malfoy,” she said to him, with no intention of seeing him again.
She stood up and went out of the pub. Turning on the spot, she apparated back to her flat in muggle London, near Hyde Park. Her flat was the second story of a three story house converted into separate floors for different tenants. She got a discount on her rent when she discovered that the people who she rented from were also wizards (she had caught them using a cleaning spell to the flat when she came to view it.) She objected to the cheaper rent at first, but soon gave in, as at the time she needed the money, but she was adamant in her promises to give it to them eventually. The flat was two double bedrooms, along with one bathroom, the living area slash kitchen. It was good for one or two people.
She looked around her apartment and saw it was complete mess but at this moment in time, she couldn’t be asked to clean it up, magic or no magic. Sighing, she dumped her handbag, only getting out her wand and walked into the master bedroom.
Her bedroom was a baby green in colour, with a double poster bed in the middle. Not that I have anyone to share it with as Ron barely comes round, she thought bitterly to herself as she entered the room. The wall that her bed leant on was a built in bookshelf, apart from the bit her bed leant upon. In the corner by the window was the dresser and wardrobe and in the other corner was a full length mirror. Around her bed were small fairy lights. On the dresser was a picture of Harry, Ron and herself, another of her parents, and one of herself and her parents together.
Hermione quickly took off the formal dress and slipped into her fluffy pyjamas; not wanting to visit the rest of the world. Her father was gone; he was gone and he was never coming back. There was nothing for her now, she wasn’t close with her mum, things with Ron were…complicated. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice from the front room, it was Ron’s
“Hermione! Hermione where are you?”
“In here!” she shouted from inside the bed.
She wiped her brown eyes and sat up in the bed, the quilt pulled up to her chin.
“Hermione…” Ron trailed off as he found her in her room, he took off his shoes and blazer and got under the covers, holding Hermione into his chest.
It was weird, she started to cry, but she would have been crying anyway, it didn’t feel different; like she was being comforted by a lover, it felt…it felt like he was holding something from her. The way he just held her, usually, he would have said things in Hermione’s ear to soothe her, not this time. She needed to know what was wrong.
“Ron?” She blinked a few times to push back the tears.
“Yes?” she heard him ask above her.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione managed to say in between then sniffs.
He pulled back and looked her in the eye and frowned,
“You’re upset because of your father, when you’re upset, it upsets me.” He put his hands on her cheeks.
“No, no there’s something else.” She shook her head.
He sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you, not today of all days, but…but I have to on a mission abroad, to America. Some dark wizards have been committing some murders and the American Aurors can’t seem to track them down, so they asked us for help. I’ll be gone for a long time, I mean a year…and…” he trailed off.
“And?” she asked him, her heart starting to shatter into more and more tiny pieces.
“And…it’s quite a dangerous mission. I can’t…” he drew a sharp intake of breath, “I can’t be with you while I’m out there. It’s not fair on you. If anything happens to me, I can’t…I can’t do that to you Hermione.” He closed his eyes.
“No…no, no you can’t do that Ron, please,” she whimpered. This cannot be happening.
“I’m sorry Hermione. I have to go.” He kissed her on the forehead, picked up his things and apparated out.
So that’s why he has been so distant lately. This means Harry has to go. No, they can’t go. She ducked back under the covers and cried, it was the only thing she could do for the moment’s time. It was all she was capable of.
That was two months ago.
Since then, she hadn’t been crying as much, she had accepted the fact that he was gone, now she didn’t have either her father or Ron. As it turned out, Harry didn’t have to go; as head of the Auror department, he had to remain behind and continue to run it.
Word had gotten out to the wizarding world what had happened and she had been bombarded with questions about Ron’s departure. From what she had seen in the papers, he wasn’t answering anything either.
That day also wasn’t the last time she had seen Draco Malfoy, despite her wishes. Every day she would be in there at the same time, it had become a ritual of hers. She didn’t always consume alcohol, sometimes it would be an orange juice, but every day she would see him sitting in a booth alone. Sometimes he acknowledged her, sometimes he completely ignored her. Hermione had noticed that he was very withdrawn, he didn’t have his old Malfoy spark and for some reason it bothered her.
On the other hand, she had quit her job. The ministry said she was welcome back anytime soon but she knew she wouldn’t go back. They had given herself, Harry and Ron a huge amount of money after the war, she didn’t want it, but they put it in her bank anyway, so she was sure she would survive.
Her mother had decided to move back to Australia as she said it was where her father had been happiest. Hermione knew it was because she wanted to get away from everything, but she let this slip by.
A week after the funeral, herself and her mother had gotten into a row. Jean wanted to know why Hermione couldn’t bring her father back from the dead but however much she tried to explain to her mother that she couldn’t, Jean didn’t seem to grasp hold of the fact that he wasn’t going to come back. That was when Hermione was informed she moving back to Australia and she hadn’t heard from her mother since.
So here she was, in bed reading a book about two cancer patients falling in love and crying her eyes out when she heard a faint pop from the front room.
“Hermione?” she heard Harry’s voice call out.
Hermione lowered down her wand and got out of her bed, it was the middle of the afternoon but she didn’t bother to care.
“Harry?” she called out as she entered the living room.
“Hey Hermione, I just wanted to see if you are alright?”
Harry proceeded to sit on the sofa as Hermione started to make tea.
“I’m fine Harry, honestly.” She gave him a small smile.
“Um, so, Hermione, you know the wedding is in two weeks?”
“Yes, Ginny rings me up every day to tell me,” she stifled a small laugh.
“Well, Ron might be coming.” Harry avoided looking at Hermione but he heard the clatter of the tea spoon.
“Ron…how? How did you contact him? I’ve sent him owls and they’ve all been returned!” she walked over to him.
“The American head of department took the letter and promised to give it to him face to face and demand he open it.” He looked down, feeling guilty.
“Oh.” Hermione proceeded to making the teas again.
“How do you feel about that?” Harry asked as he received his tea.
“Well…I will have to deal with it. I haven’t heard anything or been in contact with him since he left.” She shrugged.
“I’m sorry Hermione.” He gave her a sympathetic smile and made a mental note to ask Ron into why he hadn’t bothered to contact her. “Anyway, what have you been up to?”
“Nothing much really apart from bridesmaid duties with Ginny, I managed to re-read half of my book.”
“Are you still going to that pub every day?” he eyed her suspiciously.
She sighed. “Yes, it’s a comforting thing I guess. Every day at the same time.”
“Can I come with you today? Ginny was on a rampage when I left. Something about the flowers not being the right colour.”
Hermione laughed. “Typical Ginny. Sure you can, I’m due there in five. Let me get changed and we can apparate there. I’m not up for walking today.” She smiled and put down her now empty cup and went into her bedroom.
They apparated just outside the pub and walked in. Hermione took seat in the booth while Harry went and ordered them two orange juices. She looked up at the clock and waited the thirty seconds until it struck half past two. She looked at the door on the other side of the bar and just on queue was Draco himself, looking as tired and drawn as usual.
“Does he always come in?” Harry said, watching the blonde man as he sat down opposite Hermione.
“Every day, exactly on time. I’ve noticed since they day we buried…everyday he comes in on queue and orders the same drink.”
“Does he ever speak to you? I haven’t seen or heard from him in years!”
“He did on the first day, but sometimes he looks at me. I can never make out the expression.”
“Talk louder; I don’t think the muggles across the park can hear you.”
Harry and Hermione both jumped at Draco’s voice.
“Sorry,” Hermione mumbled.
She dared to look back up at him and he had resumed his usual position of looking down solemnly into his drink.
She felt a wave of sorrow flood her, he looked alone most of the time, at least she had Harry and Ginny still.
“Hermione I better go, Ginny will be going mad. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
He got up and hugged her.
“Okay Harry, say hello to Ginny for me.” She kissed him on the cheek before he apparated out.
Hermione gave one last sigh and one last look towards the blonde haired man before she apparated out herself.
A/N: um, so, yeah i couldnt stay away :D
I was going to wait a month to upload this, but got really itchy to upload as i missed it.
Im going to do a chapter a week so im not rushed. I have college now so im learning lines ect as i do drama :D
Um, so yeah, i hope you guys liked this as much as my other Dramione one. Please dont compare the two as this one is different :p
Thankyou guys <3
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