Nicest Thing

And this is the final chapter! There will be an epilogue coming up soon – dunno when but I will get on it! Followed by Draco’s version of this story – different key events and more of those characters you love!!!!

Songs:

Up to ‘Running Scene’: ***
Lily Allen – Chinese
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00mDMSJOt_Q

‘Running Scene’: ******
Coldplay – Yellow
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVrrAP-ntMc
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***
Hermione struggled to get herself up in the morning with the memories of the previous night clouding her mind. The cold shower she took in the morning didn’t wake her from her ditzy slumber. Her eyes were red from the tears she shed and the immense feeling of guilt she had. Not for anything in particular but for how stupid she had been. Why she had denied herself those feeling she admitted not eight hours ago was beyond her. She was afraid. Afraid of falling in love and of being alone. She was a coward.

She sat in her kitchen nibbling on a muffin, yet she didn’t feel really hungry. She knew she had messed things up and now - she was free. Was that what she wanted? Did she want Draco to be out of her life forever? That was why Harry was looking at her, why Ginny had made such an effort to get her to talk about him. They knew. They knew and she was stupid and blind. Why hadn’t Harry just said something? Because he’s a guy and thinks being mysterious is smart. Idiot. Bloody idiot.

Crookshanks mewed at her and nipped her leg, causing her to scowl at her familiar. She glanced to the clock and let out a harsh scream – she was late! Hermione rushed to dress and didn’t bother brushing her bushy hair free of tangles. She rushed across the room, running into her furniture as she moved to the hearth and stood inside. Throwing the Floo powder below her, she bellowed out the Ministry.

The large projection currently showed the score of the Bulgarians against Falmouth. Occasionally photos of Draco would pop up, surrounded by fans with that fake smile she had learned he gave when he wasn’t particularly feeling up to it. A few ministry workers were standing in front of the news meter and just watched with awe as Falmouth scored points like crazy. Photos of Draco racing Viktor Krum emerged and the few that were paying attention – which were quite a few – shouted with cheer as Draco over took Krum when he spotted the snitch.

Hermione brushed past her desk and ignored the commentary that was blasting through Gretel’s radio. She didn’t look up but still managed to hand Hermione her mail – too engrossed in the game. Rolling her eyes, Hermione made it into her office and sat with a loud sigh. She brought her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes, blinking back overwhelming tears.

Her hand searched her pocket for that letter and she pulled it out, uncrumbling it and held it out. Her eyes scanning the text. She hadn’t been able to stop reading it over and over since she opened it and felt like a complete bint for not opening the other letters he had tried to give her. Namely the one he gave Ginny to give her – which was now sitting happily in a trash pile awaiting recycling.

She inhaled and closed her eyes, feeling the text under her fingers. His handwriting was beautiful and smooth, flowing with each stroke of the quill. It looked rushed yet elegant all rolled into one. Several things were crossed out so heavily that she couldn’t make it out. Her name changed from ‘Hermione’ to ‘Granger’ with several lines crossing it out but stopped at ‘Hermione.’



‘Hermione,

This might or might not be about the thirtieth letter that I’ve written. I probably used half of your parchment, but don’t worry I will replace it before the night is out. As you know, I am terrible with feelings, emotions and the whole lot. Telling you in person might as well give me a heart attack and I feel this is the only way I can properly tell you how I feel, or fathomed I feel…about you.

You are arrogant, buck-toothed, pale, too smart for your own good and annoying but I have come to find that you have a sense of humor – whether it rivals the Weasley twins remains to be seen – you are bright, charming and beautiful. I find myself constantly thinking about you and I hate it. I hate how you make me feel in the morning. The way you smell of oranges and sugar or the way your eyes flutter when you dream. I even hate that ruddy cat of yours. But I love it. I love it all. The Muggle town you live in, your terrible table manners, lack of etiquette and fine wine tasting, how you seem to pick and chastise my every decision and most of all the way you smile at me.

As selfish as I may appear, I knew I could never covet you, especially after you told Ginny about your feelings for me. Yes, I heard everything and when I planned on exiting out of your life your wonderful Harry Potter decided to try and convince me to stay and ‘hear you out.’ Like that was going to happen. I have too much pride to be rejected in person and public. I wanted to get even and when I saw Pansy I thought it was the perfect opportunity. I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me but in reality I only hurt myself. I hate you Granger. I hate you because I find myself falling in love with you. That day at the hospital, I saw you with Potter’s child. I wanted that. I wanted what they have. Love. Family. Each other. And what is worse, I wanted it with you.

I know you will never find to be more than a blood purist, spoiled, fame-seeking Malfoy and I accept that. I will never truly forget how you looked at me as if I’m human – not just some bloody idiot who thinks he likes fame and fortune. Truth is, I’d give it all up. For you. But that’s neither here nor there. I have come to the realization that if you rebuke my advances when I go to the Ministry for the Falmouth conference that your feelings against me are true. I will never speak to you again and you will never hear a word of me. I will do what my father has planned me to do since I was in nappies and marry Pansy after the Quidditch World Cup as much as her annoying voice reveres me. But I will say this one thing.

Hermione J. Granger. I will always love you.

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy’



******

Her eyes lingered on his name for what seemed hours until she was startled by the booming cries of Gretel as Falmouth went into the lead by 150 points. Her eyes looked at the clock and she saw that she had spent her entire day reading the letter over and over; her tea had gone cold and back went stiff. Her legs had fallen asleep as well. Hermione crumbled onto her desk and covered her head with her hands, sobbing.

It’s not fair. None of it. She pressed her cheek against the cool desk and blinked at the fireplace – which was glowing with embers. Breathing softly, Hermione began thinking. Doing what she did best. She tilted her head to the side and at the little lily that sat in a glass on her desk, the lilac ribbon trailing onto the table as if it were pointing to the fireplace.

Frowning, Hermione rose from her seat and pulled her cloak from her – which she normally did when she entered her office but had decided not to. Brushing her tears from her cheeks, Hermione glowered at the fireplace and then looked to the letter. Her heart was beating loudly as her throat grew dry.

“Sod it.” Hermione said loudly, “Sod it all.”

She moved quickly now, rushing out of her office door. Gretel looked up as a brown blur moved and leaned over, grinning with twinkling eyes. Hermione pushed her way through the crowds that had formed around the late projection as the announcer shouted that Draco was coming close to grabbing the snitch and winning the game.

As she parted through the crowd she ran into the chest of some one and groaned. Cormac. He stood in front of her with his arms out.

“I need to talk to you,” he demanded, bringing his hand to her arm to grasp onto it, “And you’re not going anywhere until I tell you…”

“Shut it, McLaggen.” Hermione snarled, balling her fist up as she sent a fist flying into his face, “I’m in a hurry!”

She pushed past him as he fumbled onto the floor, holding his eye. Viceroy and Rockland were in pearls of laughter as Hermione passed them and shouted at Cormac.

“She got ya didn’t she!” Viceroy beamed with pearls of tears in his eyes, “So bloody brilliant, that one!”

“I’ll say!” Rockland laughed, trying to hold himself up on the old man as they both split from laughing so hard.

Hermione didn’t notice as she was moving as quickly as she could. She snatched a pot of Floo powder from Dennis’ hands and pushed an older woman out of the way – who turned out to be her boss.

“Hermione?” her boss questioned as Hermione looked at her, “Go get him, girl.”

She smirked and threw the powder on the ground, shouting the name of the cabin that was used to transport wizards to the World Cup camp grounds. The feeling of tickling green flames engulfed her, yet she remained focused. The swirling motion sent her head reeling but she landed on her feet with a cloud of ash dust exploding around her. Some one wearing suspenders shot out of his seat and adjusted his glasses as the cloud faded around Hermione’s feet.

Covered in soot and dirty, Hermione didn’t even bother waiting to explain. She took off out the door and shoved past several Muggles – who did a double take. Running up the large hill and past several oddly shaped tents, Hermione paused at the top and took a breath. The sun had set and the lights of the Quidditch Stadium were lit. Roaring cheers echoed across from her and she could almost see small specks of people zooming through the air.

“Now, or never Hermione,” Hermione told herself in a breath, “Don’t be a fool.”

She took another breath and ran down the hill. Bloody anti-Apparation wards making things difficult. She tripped half way down the mountain and ended up rolling on her side to the bottom. A few witches who hadn’t bought tickets tried to help her but she shrugged them off and tried to straighten her robes.

“I’m fine. I’m fine!” Hermione urged, shoving one nosy person out of her way as she huffed and puffed to the stadium.

She should have kept those damn tickets Ginny sent her instead of burning them like she had. Hermione looked around the large stadium and took a brave breath. Hermione rushed at the door, her curly hair whipping around her as she moved, ducking and dodging various fans.

“Please, please, please,” Hermione muttered as she raced along the enlarged corridors past several vendors – who had stooped over their carts to see her run.

She ducked under a velvet rope, which she suspected was supposed to keep people out but weren’t warded. Idiots. Hermione emerged under the pitch where several people sat staring outside at the game. There were several other spectators that she remembered from the Quidditch party – including an injured Brutus holding a large pack of ice to his head. He perked up when he saw Hermione rushing toward the entrance and smiled brightly.

“HE DID IT! HE BLOODY WELL DID IT! WE BEAT BULGARIA!” Another man shouted, jumping up and down with another mate. “Draco Malfoy beat Viktor Krum! It was bloody brilliant!!!!”

Hermione paused for a brief second when the crowd above them cheered, causing the rafters to shake with stomping feet and clapping. He won. He won. Her mind kept telling her but she had to remind herself what she was there for.

“Oh no you don’t!” Pansy screamed, having noticed Hermione.

She came charging at her like a bull, her black eyes bulging from her skull. Hermione rummaged in her pockets for her wand, prepared to hex Pansy’s face off when Pansy went flying. A balled up fist was floating in the air and the owner…Luna Lovegood. Hermione nearly collapsed from the lack of air in her lungs but she managed to whisper.

“Luna?”

“I always wanted to do that,” Luna said cheerfully as Ron stepped over Pansy’s body with a mouthful of food, looking confused

“What---“ Luna wrapped her arms around Ron and smiled, “Well, what are you waiting for, Hermione?”

“What is she doing?” Ron asked.

“Telling Malfoy she loves him.” Ginny said from behind them, smiling happily when Hermione turned.

“Go on ‘Mione,” Harry said, sporting James on his chest with a Muggle baby carrier.

“What?” Ron looked confused but Luna just shoved him to the side with her.

Hermione gawked, “You…all…”

“We’re not stupid, Hermione.” Ginny smiled, “I was wondering how long it was going to take. Five galleons, Harry.”

“Bugger.”

“I’ll kill you all later,” Hermione whispered, brushing her unruly hair down as she moved, stepping over Pansy’s unconscious body.

She took a breath and looked behind her at her friends – all of whom were shooing her to go save Ron, who looked utterly confused. Brutus held the curtain open for her and gave her the extra push, literally. She stumbled forward as the crowd cheered. Walking slowly, Hermione began twisting at her skirt nearly blinded by the bright lights surrounding the stadium.

A crowd of players had hoisted Draco into the air, chanting his name. Girls in the stands sobbed and threw things at him, namely their undergarments. She thought she saw Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy in the stands clapping happily for Draco – only for Narcissa to grasp onto Lucius’ arm and point at her with a shocked expression. She could feel thousands of eyes burning on her as she approached the center of the pitch.

A few stadium guards rushed to pull Hermione from the pitch but Brutus easily tackled them out of the way, causing them to crash into the Bulgarians. Viktor pulled Brutus up and patted him on the back, shaking hands with him. Draco was congratulating everyone but he gaped when his eyes landed on the disheveled Hermione. Tapping the head of the captain, Draco fell to his feet and pushed through the crowd.

Hermione pushed her legs for that extra mile and rushed to him. Both staring down at one another.

“Draco,” Hermione began, “I was so wrong. About you, about everything. You mean so much to me and I thought that you didn’t really care, you didn’t know what it meant. You could get anyone you wanted and I thought I was just some one you wanted to shag and not be with. And then you were so nice and kind and you beat up Cormac and…”

“Shut up, Granger. You talk too much,” Draco breathed, grasping her face with his hands as his lips descended on hers.

If it were possible, the crowd erupted into louder cheers. Although a few girls wept in the stands and Ron probably looked at if he were going to die. Hermione snaked her hands around Draco’s waist, holding his back lightly as their lips parted. Hermione couldn’t breath but she didn’t care. His lips were so warm and soft and she didn’t want it to end. She felt his hands tangle into her hair and pulled her further against him, hitting his padding of his uniform yet she could still feel his heart beat against her. Draco tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss and caressed his hands down her neck, brushing his thumbs against her jaw.

“Whoa!” Ron shouted, “Hermione and Malfoy?”

Harry rolled his eyes, Luna giggled and Ginny swatted him upside the head, “Where HAVE you been?”

Ron gaped but then looked smugly, “Bout bloody time.”

Draco pulled from Hermione for a second, smirking at her. “You could have waited until AFTER the game to come running into my arms. Although, this is quite the surprise.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed onto the back of his head to pull him into another kiss. Before their lips touched, she whispered, “And you say I talk too much.”