Yours in Mayhem |Dramione

40 yours

I apologize for the long wait and I apologize for the length of this. I considered posting half a chapter but if there's one thing that I learned in life it is to never go on things half-assed. So here is the full-ass version of the final chapter. <-- man, that's crass. I love you all dearly. Thank you for being patient with me, us. Thank you!

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Dear Granger,

I loathe you.

Hermione is in a gray room. There was not much in the gray room, only paper after paper after paper on the endless floor. If this were her usual dream it would have been paradise, for this is how she imagined what her designated job would be-- an endless array of paperwork-- that only she could end. Her heart nagged at her to remember something about this shade of gray and the person to whom it belonged to. But her brain was already at the problem at hand and unlike other girls, Hermione had never been particular about colors-- she can't even remember what the color her Yule Ball gown was-- if it was pink or blue-- but she can tell you about the history of the shop that sold it.

...Still I admire you.

This could not be the Draco she knew back in year one. They had friendly competition, true, but they didn't hate each other.

Could it be?

There were other letters to be read.

...I was the one who put the crumpled note in your notes but I was also the one who put the diary in Ginny's cauldron. I don't even know why I'm writing this here.

That's not true. He couldn't have. Ginny told her that she found Tom Riddle's diary in her luggage, not in her cauldron. This is too inaccurate.

Like an alternate version of things.

Slowly the tone of the letters changed.

Granger, do you believe in true love's kiss?

There were a couple of letters of him crossing back in forth to outright bullying her because of her appearance and pleading for her to go to the dance with him.

Will you go with me to the dance? Was written in different variations all ranging in desperation.

She remembers him not asking her to the dance. But they end up dancing anyway. More than dancing as a matter of fact. Her lips tingle at the memory, an unconscious finger reached up to touch it.

...congratulate you on your pose as the new Head Girl.

...we could have been friends...

That's when she finally got it. These were stories from another time, a different reality but the same Draco. Probably the same her too just that she has no idea what could have been.

And as if on cue two white envelopes floated on her lap. One as plain and direct as can be, the other liberal on ways to make a piece of palm sized paper as posh and grand as possible.

One that read Weasley- Granger in plain black ink and one that read Malfoy- Greengrass in changing hues of ink. She opened one and her mind opened up like a picture box. Images of her dancing with Ron under the silvery moonlight while wearing a simple but beautiful white gown and her biggest smile crowded her mind and soon followed another picture, this time she was dancing with Draco in golden sunspots in the heat of the afternoon, she was also wearing a white dress-- elegant too but not a wedding gown, also a smile-- but more formal for they are not school rivals anymore but acquaintances-- colleagues you could say-- no more lingering hatred just small bits of regret that they never got to know each other sooner. And she was already big with her child with Ron.