A Rake, A Spinster, And An Arrangement

Chapter 18 : Say Something (Ep 4)

"Miss Potter."

Hermione froze at the sound of his voice, hearing but not truly believing that he was actually there. How often had she dreamed of him returning to her? How many times had she cried, begging that he come back? How many times had she asked herself where she went wrong, what she had done, why she deserved...

How many tears had she shed over Draco Malfoy, Duke of Wiltshire, only for him to return the very night she expected him to be leaving.

She turned around, slowly, to see him standing there, only a few paces away. She had never felt so far from him in her entire life. He looked... beautiful. Beautiful, but afraid. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

She remembered that day, in the Sitting Room, when he had dismissed her, ending their friendship, their ruse, their courtship... She had known, then, that something was wrong, but rather than tell her what had occurred, he had pushed her away.

She had wondered, what had happened, even begged Harry to find her answers, but-

Harry had returned from the club and told her it was for the best that she move on... as though Harry knew anything about her feelings.

Harry knew nothing. In fact, he hadn't even noticed that she and Viktor were as far from courting as one could possibly be at this point.

Viktor would give her her school, if she asked for it, supporting her financially so long as she wrote a business plan, and displayed that she had the proper connections, but first, she had to be married...

And the only man she wanted to marry... wanted nothing to do with her.

And so, she had been helping Prince Viktor with his own plans, ignoring her heart, and-

Damn Harry. Damn Draco. Damn all of them, save for Ginny, who had stayed with her every day, crying with her, and Pansy, who sent letters almost daily, to both Hermione and Ginny.

She hated men. They destroyed everything they touched. Including the hearts of the women that tolerated them.

It didn't matter why Draco had been afraid that day. In fact, it didn't matter to her why Draco was afraid now. All that mattered to her was that... he had ripped her apart, and now, he just stood there, as though all was well. As though she hadn't cried a thousand tears for him.

"Your Grace," she responded carefully, plastering a fake smile over her lips. "I thought you had left London."

"Not yet," he said, suddenly looking a bit awkward as he shifted from one leg to the other. "I... I could not leave, until I spoke to you."

Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned back towards the railing, picking up her gloves once more. Whatever it was the Duke had to say, well... "I'm not interested."

"You have to hear it all the same," the Duke, Draco, said.

"I have to do nothing," Hermione replied, correcting him. "I am a free woman. You are not my husband, nor my betrothed, nor my brother, nor my guardian-"

"Hermione."

The way he said her name... he was impatient with her, yes, and exasperated, and she had heard him say her name a hundred times before, but this... this sounded desperate. A desperate plea of a man that needed nothing more than five minutes of her attention.

"Very well then," Hermione said, taking in a deep breath and looking at her gloves in her hand. "You have five minutes."

"What I have to say shall take more than five minutes," Draco said, rolling his eyes at her.