Nicest Thing

A/N: Here is the beginning of Draco’s story in the fic Nicest Things. I really enjoyed writing this chapter but know there will be plenty of chapters that I will enjoy writing. Draco is a very complicated character to write. He is still pompous and a jerk – but he is very deep and mature. Hopefully, I have captured a new kind of Draco but still retained his Draco-ness. Also, anyone notice the similarities between Theo and another character in the books? I’m hoping one of you will pick up on it :)

Songs:
*History of Life*
Augustana - Stars and Boulevards
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDLAmUj9P2k

*Surprises and Kisses*
Cary Brothers – Ride
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-yvKUn2Yo7Y

*One of those Girls*
Augustana – Sweet and Low
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2D07wrBNMk

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History of Life

He absolutely abhorred weddings but had made one exception as a favor for a fellow Quidditch star and the bane of his boyhood existence. Ginny Weasley, soon to be Potter, had sent him a frilly little invitation inviting him and a ‘guest’ to her and Potter’s nuptials. He knew about this union from the start but the details had grown out of control as the days ticked down. The Daily Prophet had becomes as reliable as The Quibbler and even then, there was a hint of skepticism. He surely didn’t believe the dribble the Prophet made – mainly because it had turned into a gossip rag instead of an actual newspaper.

Most of the time he was greeted with a photo of himself or some of his mates on his Quidditch team in compromising positions, on dates that were not dates at all, or causing some kind of ruckus during Quidditch games. In fact, there had hardly been a day where he didn’t find some blurb about him – he had gotten so used to it that he barely paid any mind to it. Being famous and a Malfoy was a deadly combination and he hated every second of it. The attention was alright but often times when he sought seclusion he would run into flashing bulbs. Only hiding out in several homes overseas was he able to get some bloody damn peace and quiet. He had utilized and honed his Quidditch skills to join the Falmouth Falcons and soon shot into fame because of how great he was – and he wasn’t exaggerating. The only seeker worth competition had been Potter but the scar face had given up flying in exchange to ‘make the world a better place.’ What a load of rubbish.

Dressing in his best tailored dress robes with a high collar, Draco checked his reflection in the mirror of his own manor located just outside Falmouth – a small harboring town that was hardly small since the Quidditch team rose to fame after his joining. His manor was large and domineering yet simpler than the Malfoy manor had been. Never one for gaudy expressions of his wealth – although one would have thought he was when in reality that was what he called ‘toned down.’ Rolling acres with large hedges and stone walls, his own House-elves and at least seven bedrooms, seven baths, a large foyer, study, personal library, kitchen, dining room, living room, and a parlor for when he, Theo and Blaise held their monthly get togethers.

Draco cracked his neck, stiff from that evening’s practice session, and pulled his dress travel cloak from the hook on his door. He flipped it out, brushing off any loose lint and draped it over his shoulders. He had grown from how he looked during his school days. Towering a little over six feet, Draco had square shoulders, a slim waist and athletic build. He was tall and proportionate with a chiseled chin, square jaw and had smooth pale skin with a touch of peach. Once he held his father’s fashion of long hair but found it far too distracting while playing and opted to cut it short enough to either slick back or let fall over his face in a mop of silvery blond.

He sniffed when the door opened and a carriage awaited him drawn by magic and not horses. Like he needed the extra mouths to feed anyway. Draco pulled the door open and took a seat, waiting patiently as the carriage stormed off above the clouds. He had no intentions of actually going but had decided that he might as well attend – or else he’d be at the end of Ginny’s very short blunt stick. It was surprising how well they got along after their years at Hogwarts and subsequent actions at the end of the war. He surmised it had to do with him risking his neck to save Potter – when in reality he only did so because he knew the outcome of the war and wanted some kind of reason to keep him and his family out of Azkaban. Heroic? No. Selfish? One-hundred percent.

He hadn’t had any contact with anyone from school, outside Theo, Blaise and occasionally Pansy, so imagine his surprise when he played against the Holyhead Harpies and found Ginny on their team. What started off as a rivalry turned into tolerance and then into respect. There had been some articles that highlighted their ‘relationship’ or lack thereof and he had to deal with fuming red headed siblings as well as Boy Wonder himself. Only when Ginny cleared up the matter did he receive his solitude and a little hint of smugness knowing how jealous Potter had gotten over the supposed matter. Always one to fight first and never look at the details.

The carriage stopped at the entrance to the large hall that was typically used for large charity events or parties thrown by various Quidditch teams. Only those who expected such large numbers of people used this particular hall and why wouldn’t they? It wasn’t very often The Boy Who Triumphed bloody stupid name in his opinion got married to the She-Weasel. He stepped out and inhaled as a gust of cold wind blew through his slim form. Clutching to the edge of his dress cloak, Draco held his breath in fear of face turning pink, which it probably already was. He walked up the large steps and pushed through crowds of reporters and photographers stupid enough to wait outside for a chance glimpse of the wedding. To his dismay, his appearance had gotten their attention and he was half blinded by the flashing bulbs and deafened by the screams of people asking random questions.

“Sod off, you wankers.” Draco muttered as he watched the front gate open for him.

The large hall was warmer than it was outside to his relief. He pulled his travel cloak from him and handed it to a large nosed man in traditional dress robes that servants normally wore. Draco shook his hands from their frozen state and followed a crowd of people who were gathering in the middle of the room.

“Oi! Malfoy!” came the voice of Theodore Nott from the crowd.

The tall, thin lanky man jumped through the crowd happily as he came to Draco. They exchanged handshakes followed by half a hug. Nott had done some growing up after the war but was still several inches shorter than he was. He had broader shoulders and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes – laugh lines as well. Draco was lucky in that his genes offered him little time to age like others; he still had a smooth face.

“Nice to see you, Nott,” Draco laughed as Theo was pushed forward by a very large Umbridge – who looked as if her face were sagging.

“It’s bloody freezing outside!” Another voice echoed, coming up behind Theo. Blaise Zabini.

He and Draco hardly got along in school but afterward they became quite good friends. Zabini was a correspondent for an Italian newspaper, owned several wineries throughout France, and had married Potter’s ex, Cho Chang. He hardly remembered the story of how they met – something about Cho knocking him down in Diagon Alley and it had been history from there. He looked over Zabini’s shoulder and noted the small Asian with long dark hair and a large belly speaking with a mousy haired girl laden with scars across her forehead. The arrival of their first child had been buzz amongst purebloods for months – Zabini’s mother apparently thought that their child would look marvelous because of their genes and mixed heritage. Load of uninteresting rubbish.

“Did you get a look at Pansy? I swear that bint thinks this thing is some kind of husband market.” Theo laughed, chuckling when Zabini scowled as he was pushed out of the way by a very annoyed looking Cormac McLaggen.

“Like you haven’t been gawking at her, Nott. Even in school you drooled over the wretch.” Blaise chuckled, brushing off what looked like feline hair from his own tailored dress robes.

“It’s hard not to gawk when she’s flaunting her…ahem…assets,” Theo cleared his throat, causing all three to chuckle.

“I haven’t seen her yet,” Draco shrugged, noticing the looks Blaise and Theo gave him.

“Let’s pray to Merlin that she doesn’t lay eyes on you. We’d never get a moment alone with you,” Theo laughed, nudging Blaise – who now was picking pieces of lint Theo had attracted onto his black dress robes.

Compared to Blaise and Draco, Theo looked positively impoverished with dark gray dress robes that hung a little loose on his form. His dirty blond hair was nearly as long as Draco’s yet parted down the middle and tucked behind the crook of his ears. Of course, being that his father was sent to Azkaban right after the final battle it was quite obvious he had lived below their own wealthy status. However, Draco had a feeling Theo didn’t mind and found himself living comfortably working as a researcher for potions. He was also very involved in charities – most of which Draco attended at his request – and seemed to change most dramatically since he graduated. Blaise was the same, tall, dark, and handsome – according to women and not Draco himself. Towering over Draco by three inches, Blaise only wore the best and showed off his wealth far more than any Malfoy – which is an understatement. He aged well, better than Draco had, with a chiseled jaw and dark mocha skin, but it wasn’t as if they were in their forties. At twenty-five they looked similar to hooligans then adults with real jobs. If anything, Blaise was still the same – extremely hard to please with a thick skull and a tad bit of narcissism.

Surprises and Kisses

“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats according to the bride or groom’s side.” A portly man announced with a wand pointed at his throat.

“Which side are you sitting at?” Theo asked as the trio moved with the crowd.

“Weasley,” Draco shrugged, “I got the invite from her.”

“I did too,” Theo shrugged, “I worked with Charlie in Romania collecting dragon scales for a potion that…”

“We came to a wedding, Nott,” Blaise interrupted, wrapping his arm around a very pregnant Cho’s waist, “Not to hear about your potion making.”

“Ah, right. Right.” Theo nodded, coming to stand beside Draco as they made their way to their seats.

Draco purposely sat at the far end and stretched one leg out. His eyes darted around at the familiar faces he had seen and a large number he had never laid eyes on before. The music began and everyone perked up as the sight of everyone walking down the aisle. Draco watched his cousin, Nymphadora, walk past with brilliant vibrant hair, carrying a light bouquet of flowers. Followed by a curly-haired witch he hadn’t seen before.

Theo nudged him in his gut, “Blimey, look at Granger!”

Draco frowned and looked around, expecting to see some kind of bushy haired girl rambling down the aisle but he saw none, “Where?”

“There,” Theo said in a hushed whisper, “In front of Looney Lovegood.”

Draco’s throat dried and eyes bugged out of his head. There was no way, no way, that beautiful creature was Hermione Granger. The last time he saw her was a blip in the newspaper about her making headway on some fancy law for centaurs but even then there was no photo. He leaned forward and watched the witch walk slowly with a smile playing across her lips. Slender, curvy in all the right places, and short – but not too short – and very smooth looking skin, it was almost as if Granger had cast some kind of glamour charm. Draco knew Granger and knew she wouldn’t stoop that low even if it were a wedding.

“She looks bloody gorgeous,” Theo said with awe, “I reckon if…”

“Sshh,” Draco hissed, nodding to a couple who sat in front of them when they turned to stare daggers.

“Sorry,” Theo whispered, covering his mouth some as they grew silent.

He kept all eyes on the witch throughout the rest of the ceremony and watched her sway ever so lightly when Potter and Ginny embraced for their first kiss as husband and wife. The crowd rose in applause, as did Draco, but his eyes were glued to the happy looking witch with a small curved smirk playing across his lips.

One of those Girls

Draco was never one for parties but only appeared so because he attended quite a few. Normally, he would make an appearance then find some sodding corner and sit around until it was time for him to leave. All photographers cared about were if he were chatting up some girl – where normally he wasn’t. Theo had made the buffet table his home while Blaise sat with his wife at one of the larger tables littered with former Ravenclaws and Slytherins.

He watched Granger from a distance, sipping at his icy beverage filled with firewhiskey, as she ran around like a chicken with its head cut off. No doubt the supple creature he had laid eyes on was, in fact, Hermione Granger. Her dominating voice penetrated even the tirades of the youngest of children and her bossy nature was proof enough that even with age Hermione Granger was still Hermione Granger. He watched her get a reprieve from the elder Weasley mom and made her way to a table in the middle back section.

Polishing off his drink, Draco returned to a very boring conversation with Cormac McLaggen and some frilly dames who tried their best to gather his attention at one point but were not engrossed in McLaggen’s poor attempt at lying.

“So, I told him…I told him ‘bugger off, if you want me to get it done you’ll have to do more than beg,’ Cormac said loudly, stringing his arm around a blond, who giggled.

“Oh wow, really?” She said with a nasally sound, causing Draco’s nose to twitch.

“What about you, Malfoy?” Cormac asked, quirking an eyebrow at the blond wizard, “You have any rueful stories about your days on the pitch?”

“None,” Draco replied with a mild shrug, “None that are as interesting as yours are.”

He quirked his own eyebrow in knowing, causing Cormac’s face to turn red and stumble over his next words.

“I’m sure you’ve had some,” he said, “I mean you are quite popular with the ladies and I hear that even Bulgaria tried to get you for their team.”

“Rumors, I’m afraid,” Draco replied coolly, “Of course, if I wanted to join their team I would have. Unlike some…”

He coughed into his glass and pulled an ice cube from it, crunching on it lightly. Cormac’s face looked like it was going to explode at Draco’s words – knowing quite well that Draco knew he was full of fluff. His eyes followed Draco’s eye line – trained on Hermione’s back.

“I hear she swings for the other side,” Cormac quickly said, breaking Draco’s concentration, “You know. One of those girls.”

“Mhm,” Draco hummed, bringing his eyes to Cormac, “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

Cormac stiffened, “Well, for one she’s alone.”

“Many people come to weddings without a date,” Draco replied, gazing at Cormac’s growing purple face.

“It’s not only that, Malfoy. Look at her – no one in their right mind would…and everyone else is already paired off. Of course I always thought there was something wrong with her, ya know?”

“Just because she spurned your affections does not make her one of those girls,” Draco shrugged, knowing quite well that Cormac was overworking his brain to think of something witty to say but Draco was hardly in the mood for it. Maybe some other time.

He placed his drink on a platter as a waiter passed and cracked his neck, “If you’ll excuse me. Ladies?” He nodded to the group of girls and moved past them while Cormac began spouting random things that made no sense and eventually returned to bragging at something he knew: himself.

As he approached Hermione, his mind was racing and for once he didn’t know what to say. And he normally did! He stood beside her with his hands in his pockets, staring out into the scene on the dance floor. Glancing down at her at the corner of his eye, Draco said the first thing that came to mind.

“Not dancing?”

When he finally convinced her to dance with him, he could hardly hear or see straight from how much his heart was beating. It was shocking how such a person he hated during his youth churned his stomach into knots just by looking at him with his doe eyes. She felt as soft as she looked and he couldn’t help but smile internally at her innocence – or lack there of.

His hand skimmed down to her lower back, pressing her against him as her sweet scent of oranges filled the air around him. He brought her hand to his shoulder after awhile and leaned against her, inhaling the smell of her hair when she rested her head against his chest. Draco could see Cormac from behind her with wide shocked eyes and couldn’t help but grin like a maniac. He raised his eyebrows at the Gryffindor and pulled Hermione from him when the dance ended, not bothering to release her from his grasp.

Little did he know that one question of her not dancing would lead to a very interesting night and a very interesting future.