Their Greatest Mistake

Hey guys! So it's my birthday (I'm 28!), so here's a little birthday treat, from me to you. A party favor, of sorts : )

**
As the night wore on, more and more people began to leave, until it was just Harry, Ron, Ginny, Pansy, and Blaise left in Saxe-Coburg Manor with Draco and Hermione. Both of the hosts were anxious for their guests to leave, but being the well trained upper class, it did not show on either’s face.

The seven of them had moved into Hermione’s favorite sitting room: the Yellow Sitting Room. It was much smaller than any of the rest, and was actually the family’s personal one that was rarely used for guests. She had very fond memories of Christmas with her grandmother and her parents – they had always pretended to get along for two days: her birthday and Christmas – in the Yellow Sitting Room, because even though the official, formal tree was out in the ballroom, their tree was in the Yell Room, as she had called it as a three-year-old.

She smiled contentedly, remembering her grandmother, and snuggled closer to Draco, who had his arm around her shoulders as they sat on the loveseat, without even realizing it. For his part, he was deep in conversation with Blaise and Harry, who was ignoring Draco, about the likelihood of a British team making the Quidditch World Cup the following summer. Before long, Ron and Ginny had joined in, and Pansy and Hermione were left out of the conversation.

Catching the other girl’s eye, Pansy rolled hers at their obsessed friends and significant others. Hermione giggled a bit, causing Pansy to, as well, and before long they were attempting to smother them in a dignified manner. At last, though, the attention of the Quidditch-obsessed was caught

“Oy! What’s so funny, you two?” Ron asked, looking suspiciously between his girlfriend and his best friend.

Quickly hiding the little smile on her face, Hermione responded tiredly, “Nothing, Ronald. Whatever are you talking about? Pansy, do you have any idea?”

Pansy schooled her features so that she looked equally tired, annoyed, and clueless. “No, Hermione, I don’t. Ron, darling, are you seeing things again?”

Before he could respond, Ginny cut in, seeing what the two other girls were doing. “You know, Pansy, he might be. It is past his bedtime, after all,” she added, smiling evilly.

Harry, too, caught on, and looked in shock at Ron. “Ron, really? You told me it got moved to eleven o’clock!” By now, the seven of them were unable to keep the laughter in, and soon were rolling around, leaning on to each other for balance. Even Ron had joined in, and they had just got it under control when Ginny looked at the clock.

“Shite! Ron, it’s ten forty-five!” she cried, jumping up and dragging him up. “Mum wanted us home by ten thirty!” He jumped up, too, and suddenly there was pandemonium, the two of them trying to get back to the Burrow before inciting the anger of Molly Weasley. Harry and Pansy were swept along with them, and Blaise decided to leave, as well, so in an instant, Draco and Hermione went from being hosts to being left alone.

Awkwardly, Hermione turned to him in their entryway, where Ben and Geoffrey had taken their guests for them and shown them to the Floo and the Apparation point, depending on the person. “So,” she began, fiddling with her dress, a little chilled, now. Steeling herself, she looked into his eyes and said, “Thank you, Draco, for tonight. You were amazing, and I really can’t believe we did it.”

He smiled at her and moved forward to take her into his arms. “I was amazing? You were amazing,” he said. She gave a little, teary laugh.

She burrowed her face into his chest, and he could barely hear her muffled response. “I almost lost it when Pansy dragged Ron into the Red Sitting Room to turn her pages.” Briefly, she looked up at him, smiling serenely. “I’ve got to say, I’m glad they’re together, because he can’t say anything about us now without being extremely hypocritical or upsetting her.”

I’m glad they’re together because we wouldn’t be otherwise, Draco thought crazily before he realized it. But he brushed the thought back into the recesses of his mind, and he laughed along with her. It was low and rumbling, which she could feel resounding as she rested comfortably back on his chest, and clearly showed his agreement with her. They stayed like that, happily wrapped around each other, for several minutes.

Then, however, Hermione caught herself, and stepped away. It was clear from the flush on her cheeks and the way that her eyes would not meet his that she hadn’t meant for that to happen. “Er, I’m going to go upstairs, now, and get ready for bed,” she said, fidgeting.

If she had been brave enough to meet his eyes with hers, she would have seen the hurt and confusion that resided there for a split second before he schooled his features once more. “Ah, yes, very well, then,” he said brusquely. “I’ll be up before long,” he called after her and she turned and ran up the grand staircase. He sadly watched her go, before shaking himself and turning towards the door that led to the gardens. He really needed some time to think.

* * *

Hermione swiftly dismissed all of the servants from their rooms for the night. She then threw herself onto the bed, pulled a pillow to her face, and screamed into it so that no one could hear her.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening! It wasn’t supposed to be so easy to fall into the crazy-in-love façade! After all, it was a Godric be damned façade!

Wasn’t it?

* * *

He wandered the gardens for who knew how long. He couldn’t get her out of his head. He knew, from experience, that he wasn’t actually in love with her. Yes, he had a “crush” on her and yes he wanted to get in her pants, so to speak, but he didn’t love her.

Not yet, anyway, said that obnoxious little voice in his head.


**
So, thoughts? Feelings?

xx
suzz