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It was the tenth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts and so the Ministry had declared a full-blown gala in honor of that day. The ballroom was overloaded in glittering crystals and silver roses, and the everyone in their finest appeal, reporters were outside, getting pictures, attempting to get interviews from the higher ranking guests, the lords, and heads of houses, the movers and shakers of the Wizarding world.
He, however, had managed to bypass them and now was standing in the Ministry’s ballroom, which was decked out in what could be considered a fortune’s worth of Silver roses, looking every inch of the Pureblood Wizard he was. His robes were stark black, but the best fabric, a touch of ice blue trim here and there, that matched his eyes as his mother would say. The former Slytherin’s platinum blonde hair was pushed back, short, but still very neat, with a piece in the front that tended to fall into his eyes if he tilted his head the wrong way.
I can see you standin', honey, With his arms around your body, Laughin' but the joke's not funny at all.
In his hand was a crystal goblet of whatever half-ass version of champagne was being served at this event. His face was locked in his trademark the posh bored look of being above all of it, ever hiding what he was actually thinking because it just wouldn’t do for anyone to see the former Slytherin prince’s true feelings about being here. Standing next to him was his escort for the evening, Astoria Greengrass, a very pretty blonde pure-blooded former Hufflepuff. Not his date, not his girlfriend, just an escort, a favor to his mother. The witch he wanted, well, He couldn’t have cause… somehow they had fucked it up. His ice-blue eyes were locked on Her across the room, his jaw tightened, hating every damn second.
Across the way, standing with two of her best friends, one of them so much now stood the curly-haired, brown-eyed witch who haunted him, even though it’s been seven long months since their lives had imploded leaving him even more hollow then the war had in its own way.
He could almost hear her laughing at something the tall former Auror has said, as the other wizard, with a certain scar wrapped his arm around her waist.
And it took you five whole minutes, To pack us up and leave me with it. Holdin' all this love out here in the hall
He down the bargain-priced champagne down and motioned for a fire whiskey, a double, his left hand fisted, staring as Potter’s hand slid down the back of the witch’s gold gown, a stubble, but a clear sign to every wizard in the room, she was taken by the Golden boy himself. He bit back a growl in his throat, seeing Hermione’s blind, carefree support once again for Potter, and he pushed back the desire to storm over there and deck the “Man who won” right in his snarky face.
You're not my homeland anymore, So what am I defendin' now?, You were my town, Now I'm in exile seein' you out...
She had always jumped to defend her friends, in a way he never saw her do for him, and even now, it hurt like a stab in the chest. She had thrown him away, as if he and their relationship had been no more important to her yesterday’s trash, given no warning sign that she was unhappy.
I can see you starin', honey, Like he's just your understudy, Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me
The witch in question focused on the two men she was standing with, laughing at something her first friend had said, but he had noticed the laugh didn’t light her eyes up. The Hogwart’s herbology junior professor glanced over to where the blonde Slytherin stood with his equally elegant date, then back to his friend. He inwardly sighed, hating that all these months later, the prick still had an effect on his best friend. He tilted his head, not saying a word, as her boyfriend turned to get them drinks, silently checking on her and she shook her head so slightly, if you didn’t know what to look for, you would have missed it. Neville simply nodded, and made a quirky remark about devil’s snare, to help distract her as the green-eyed wizard handed them drinks and took his place right to her left, his hand on her lower back.
Second, third, and hundredth chances, Balancin' on breaking branches, Those eyes add insult to injury
Neville, sweet, shy Neville, had been there through all the stuff between the two. He had done his best to help the blonde wizard and the curly-haired witch, but most of the time, he was given a front-row seat to the kind of communication downfall that plagued their relationship, much to his regret. He hated watching his best friend fall apart because of some guy.
I think I've seen this film before, And I didn't like the ending, I'm not your problem anymore, So who am I offending now?, You were my crown, Now I'm in exile seein' you out
Harry, felt her shiver as his fingers grazed her bare back, as it settled on the witch’s lower back. He was well aware that He was watching, and that his girlfriend was doing her best not to react to the stares, the flashes of the cameras. He leaned in, whispering in her ear, letting her know they could leave whenever she wanted, no harm, no foul. Her caramel eyes looked up at him, and as always, he would do anything to keep those eyes on his own. She smiled, and his hand slipped around to pull her tighter to his side, his hand settling on her hip, unashamed that he was there with her.
All this time, We always walked a very thin line, You didn't even hear me out (you didn't even hear me out), You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
She wasn’t blind, she had seen Draco’s scornful, possessive eyes, the fist, and she half wondered where that passion and need had been during the eighteen months they had been together. Seeing him, even now, even after she had moved on, made her feel every bit of the heartbreak and defeat she felt that day she had walked away from him, so tired of feeling like she would never be good enough for his world. She had fought so hard, to get him to see the issues, but he turned a blind eye time and time again until she felt she had to go, for her own sanity and happiness.
So step right out. There is no amount, Of cryin', I can do for you, All this time, We always walked a very thin line
Music played, speeches were made, donations announced to help with Hogwarts, and to advance the knowledge of the next generation of witches and wizards.
All this time, I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind),
I couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around), 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)
Hermione found herself alone for a moment, sitting at a table, Harry was talking to the Minster, Neville was dancing with Hannah Abbott, while she sat at their table, sipping her second glass of white wine, and was avoiding looking at the table, four tables to the left, not wanting a scene with him, not tonight, not again. She loved Harry, she always had, and always will, and she was his girl, but even he knew, that the blonde Slytherin had part of her, and it was still a bandaged wound that was still too tender to touch.
I think I've seen this film before, And I didn't like the ending, You're not my homeland anymore
So what am I defending now?
She stood, sensing it was best if she slipped away now, seeing Draco was on the dance floor. She looked over, seeing Neville, and she nodded and he returned it.
She moved silently, slipping out the side door, knowing Neville would let Harry know she had to go. Some would say she was being a coward, she called it a smart retreat. She apparated, heading home knowing Harry would find her when he was able.
You were my town, Now I'm in exile seein' you out, I think I've seen this film before
So I'm leaving out the side door