The Accidental Malfoy

17 | Turning of the Tide

Disclaimer: I do not own this, nor am I profiting off the display of this story in any way.

The party was in full swing before Draco got a moment to himself and he quickly made his escape onto the balcony outside the ballroom, which his mother had lit up with floating candles and multi-coloured balls of light. It was incredibly pretty but didn't match his mood.

The older he got, the more he hated his birthday and the massive production it had become. It made him acutely aware that his life had spun out of control and how unhappy he was with it all. Once, a room full of sycophants singing his praises and showering him with presents had been all he had wanted, but he had married one, and he intimately knew how empty all of it was. With a child of his own on the way, he realised he wanted more, but wasn't sure how to achieve it.

"This is where you've got to," Hermione said, as she joined him where he stood overlooking the formal gardens. Dusk was deepening into a dark gloom that matched his mood perfectly and he didn't respond.

"I think that went pretty well, considering," she continued, ignoring his lack of a response.

"No one said anything bad to you, did they?" Draco asked, suddenly worried about what she could have been subjected to. He had sat his friends down before the party proper had begun and had threatened to hex them all if they so much as made Hermione uncomfortable.

"Nothing more than the usual banter I would expect."

He wasn't really sure what that meant. Did she mean that in a general sense, or in a Slytherin sense? If she meant it in a general sense, then that really wasn't a problem. Despite what others thought about them, Draco and his friends did have a sense of humour, and it wasn't always cruel. But what if Hermione had meant in a Slytherin sense? That could only mean slurs and taunts being thrown at her. But surely she would not put up with that? He couldn't imagine her cheerfully going about her business if that was the case.

Draco had been surprised to see Hermione fully embrace the party. There had been no anxious hugging of the wall; she had breezed in, the life and soul of the place, ignoring the whispers and stares that had first greeted her. He had been stunned to see her out on the dance floor, first with Adrian, and then Theo, and Blaise. It looked as if she had been charming them too, if the smiles and laughter as they danced had been anything to go by. Theo had even come by afterwards to slap him on the back and congratulate him on his luck. That didn't exactly sound as if she had undergone anything awful.

He decided not to probe any further. It was not as if Hermione was the shy and retiring type. He was pretty sure that if any of his friends had been unpleasant, then he would have heard all about it from her, and she wouldn't have minced her words.

Hermione turned her back to the gardens, leaning against the balustrade that lined the balcony. "So, why are you out here on your own?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Not really in the mood. I hate these things."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "I would have thought this was precisely the kind of thing you went in for."

"Once upon a time it was. Now I see it for all it is: a lot of fake people pretending to care that I'm a year older."

She tutted. "That's quite a pessimistic outlook you have going on." She swatted an imaginary fly away as he opened his mouth to argue. "You have a good bunch of friends in there. They care about you, and they are genuinely worried about you."