The strapless white dress flowed gracefully down her body. The lace at the bodice and around the bottom gave it a classic edge that made Hermione fall in love with it immediately. A simple silver chain adorned her neck to match the simplistic beauty of the dress.
A small, ancient tiara (just like the one Mrs. Weasley lent to Fleur) perched on her head to hold onto the delicate lace veil. Hermione’s hair hung in elegant curls around her head.
As Hermione gazed in the mirror her chocolate brown eyes brimmed with tears of joy. She was marrying Ron Weasley!
Then, she was walking down the aisle of an outside wedding. The sky was a perfect blue color with the barest traces of cloud in the sky. It felt like a fairy tale to Hermione with birds chirping and the animals (even the gnomes) came out to rejoice with her.
The veil obscured her face from onlookers but she could see around her perfectly. All her friends from school were there as well as her Muggle family members, who looked slightly on edge because of the strangely dressed people on the other side of the aisle.
She could see Ginny and her other bridesmaids aligned at the front wearing dresses of the palest blue she could find. Ron’s groomsmen were lined the same in robes of black with ties that matched the dresses.
It seemed like a lifetime until she reached the front where her parents tearfully gave her away. But as a hand pulled the veil over her head, she noticed a sneering, pointed face where the grinning, freckled face of Ron should be. Instantly, black clouds filled the sky like someone had magically called them. A clap of thunder sounded, threatening rain.
“Why did you kill my father?” the groom, Draco Malfoy, yelled at her. “I can’t marry you now!”
“I didn’t mean to,” Hermione pleaded. “It was just an accident. Please, Draco! Marry me!”
Hermione fell to her knees just as the clouds opened up and started to pour out a hard rain. The wedding guests had all disappeared and it was just Hermione kneeling in front of an angered Draco, her white dress turning a muddy brown.
His hard face stared down at her as he raised his hand to strike her. “I’ll never marry a filthy Mudblood like you!”
Hermione woke up just as a loud of clap of thunder shook the loft and lightening lit up the room. She gripped the sheets around her and tried to catch her breath as her eyes darted around the room to check for danger.
It was hard to believe that it was a dream; it had seemed so real to her. The effects of it left Hermione shaking slightly with chills, like she had been out in the rain. She started to rub her temples to get rid of the horrible images that still seemed to burn in her mind.
And then all the questions flooded her mind. How, Why, When did she kill Lucius Malfoy? Did she really kill him? Where was Ron? Why did Malfoy take his place?
But above all “ Why did she want to marry Malfoy?
It all seemed so overwhelming and the circling questions eventually lead to a deep sleep. When Hermione woke up in the morning, she had a hard time putting the pieces of the dream back together, but another long day of work helped to push it further from her mind.
To avoid Malfoy altogether, Hermione worked long hours at the two stores and then usually fell asleep immediately after dinner because she was so exhausted. Occassionally, Mr. Bontecou would make her take a day off when he saw how tired she was all the time and how many hours she put in.
She avoided Café Phillippe like an Unforgivable Curse whenever she took her walks around the city. She would sometimes even take a longer way around just to keep from passing in front of the place.
This went on for a few weeks in which Hermione hoped that Malfoy had forgotten about her.
One day Hermione was working in the Muggle half of the store. She often liked to stay in this part because there wasn’t as much to remind her about Ron. Sometimes she’d be stocking auto books or how-to books that dealt with electrical problems and she’d think of the Weasleys but that didn’t happen very often. Each time it did it hurt a little less as time went on though.
She had just finished with a customer when Mrs. Bontecou tapped her on the shoulder. “Hermione,” she said, “Mr. Bontecou and I feel like you’ve been working too hard.”
“What?” Hermione interrupted. “I really want to work as much as I do. I really enjoy it. I need this.”
“I know you don’t mind doing the work, Hermione. That’s not the problem.” Mrs. Bontecou looked concerned. “We’re just worried that you’re working too much.”
“I promise, it’s okay,” Hermione pleaded. She really needed the work to occupy her time.
“Well, either way, we decided to hire someone to help out around more. He’ll be working in this half of the shop and you’ll probably work in the wizard half more often.”
“Okay, then.” Hermione felt a little dejected but she could understand that help was needed. Besides, it wasn’t her store or her decision to make. “When does he start?”
“Right, now. I’d like you to meet George Westerfield.”
And around the corner came a familiar blond head with that unforgettable smirk. Hermione’s jaw just dropped as she stared at the face of Draco Malfoy. But it seemed like every time she saw him a million questions flew through her mind. This time the prominent question was why he was called George Westerfield.
Mrs. Bontecou looked confused by Hermione’s reaction. “Have you met George before?” She looked between the two but Hermione couldn’t quite find her tongue or gather her thoughts just yet.
It was Malfoy who answered her. “No, Mrs. Bontecou, we’ve never met before. But it’s really nice to meet you.” And with that Malfoy hitched on a contemptuous smile and held out his hand to Hermione.
His words and tone triggered something in Hermione and she quickly shut her mouth. A steely glint entered her eyes as she lifted her hand to shake Malfoy’s. “Likewise” was all she said before turning back to her work.
Mrs. Bontecou and Malfoy walked away without another word while Hermione started to pretend to stock books. She couldn’t believe that he was there and that he had a job too. What happened to being a waiter? She wondered. And why here? He knows I work here!
Hermione’s brain switched into overdrive, analyzing the situation and trying to figure everything out. Malfoy always seemed to stump her. Even in school, she thought she had him figured out all the time and every now and then he’d throw a curve ball and she’d totally be knocked down. But ever since she came to Paris they just became harder and harder hits.
She practically jumped when she looked over and saw him leaning casually against the book cases, arms folded. There’s that smirk, she thought. That smirk plagued her nightmares when she was younger. She never admitted it but Malfoy used to scare her. He came from such an evil family that she never knew how far he would go to uphold traditions and hate.
But she wouldn’t let him see her sweat, not now anyways. “What are you doing here, Malfoy?”
“I thought that’d be obvious. I work here.” He started to walk to towards her so that they could keep their voices down and nobody would hear them.
“But why are you working here?” Hermione really didn’t feel like playing games. For once, she just wanted him to answer her straight and not play around with riddles.
“Well, for one,” he held up one slender figure to count, “a certain bushy-headed witch got me fired.”
“What?!” Hermione practically shouted. “I did not get you fired.” The thought of her causing this made the dream come to mind, in which she was accused of killing Lucius.
“Actually, you did. It seems that the Muggles frown upon their employees arguing with customers.” His smirk turned down into a slight frown at the recollection.
Hermione was also brought back to that day and she anticipated the next reason that he would count off.
“And two,” he held up another finger, “I want some answers and you, Granger, have them.”
Hermione started to feel very uncomfortable with him standing so close all of a sudden. Her dream of their wedding floated to the surface and she felt the urge to run away from him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said and turned on her heel. She headed towards the store room where the stair case to the loft was located.
“I’m not done, Granger.” Malfoy tried to reach out and grab her but as soon as she stepped across the door’s threshold to the back he retracted his arm.
Hermione spared him a curious glance but quickly said, “Well, I am.” She started up the stairs, half expecting him to follow her but he stayed where he was with his feet firmly planted in the Muggle store.
“I’ll see you at work tomorrow then.” And he turned around as well and walked out of the store.
Second Chance by WebSpinner
Chapter Notes: Sorry this one took so long. It was kind of hard to write. i really want to get to the good stuff and it was tough trying to get the situation to pan out right. This chapter sort of came out of no where. But I really hope you guys enjoy and hopefully I'll be able to update soon!