Come Find Me | Dramione

Chapter 18: Seeing Red

*TW* Mention of domestic abuse, depictions of injury, panic attack

Draco didn't know why he let Theo convince him to go out that night. His mind was still reeling from his almost kiss with Granger weeks ago.

She was avoiding him. He understood why. He had crossed a line. He had no right to feel the way he did about her, but that didn't change the fact that he did feel something for her. Something much more than a platonic coworker should feel.

He couldn't get her lips out of his head. How she bit her bottom lip when she concentrated or when they tugged against her teeth into a genuine smile. How they parted slightly when she was listening to someone talk passionately about something they loved.

She was a different kind of radiant. The type of sunshine that peeked through the cracks of tree lines or fissures in buildings. She broke her way through without apology, shining her light on everything dark, making it good.

"Are you alright, mate?" Theo broke his thoughts, sliding him another shot of firewhiskey.

Draco pushed it towards Blaise, who took it willingly. "I think I'm going to head in for the night."

"Are you sure? We never celebrated your big win with the Wizengamot." Theo pushed.

"Yeah, what's up, Malfoy?" Blaise chimed in.

"Just a bit tired is all. Drinks on me, boys." He stood from his seat at the bar, leaving a pile of Galleons for the bartender. "This should cover my tab and theirs, yes?"

She widened her eyes at the obscene amount of coins on the counter and nodded mindlessly. "Uh, thank you," she blurted as she raked the coins into her hands.

"You're a good man, Draco," Theo cheered as he shook his hand.

"I knew we kept you around for some reason," Blaise whispered as he ordered another martini.

Draco scoffed. "Goodnight, mates."

He dipped out of the pub into the chilly night. He wondered what Granger was doing for her birthday. He was sure she would spend it with her husband on some corny date that only the Weasel could come up with.

Was she enjoying herself?

He pictured them out to dinner. Perhaps she was wearing a dress, with her hair cascading down her back. Would it be a Muggle restaurant? Or maybe a nice place in Wizarding London?

He silently wished it could've been him. He could see her laughing as they walked down the street, tipsy from a few glasses of wine at dinner, holding the flowers he would have gotten her. She was smiling back at him, with his hand in hers and her hair blowing in the mid-September wind.

He shook his head. She married him. They were happy. He would just have to learn to accept that as fact and move on.

He lazily walked down the street, kicking his shoes against the cobblestone below him when he heard an almost silent sniffle come from the alley to his left. He narrowed his eyes to see in the dark and saw a woman sitting in a dark dress against the brick wall of a pub; her knees pulled into herself.

"Excuse me, are you alright–" He stopped when he got close enough to make out her unmistakable curls. Then he was running.

"Shit – Granger, what the fuck happened?" He rushed as he knelt next to her. She tensed at his hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay? Where is Weasley?"

She slowly lifted her head to meet his face. And as her hair fell out of the way of her eyes, he felt like he had been punched in the chest.

There was a large cut just below her left eye. The area around it had already started to swell, and there was a bruise forming around the corner of her mouth.