Perhaps one day she'd be the mad wife locked in the attic. A dirty secret caged within the Manor's walls. Perhaps she'd stalk the halls at night while Draco's real wife slept soundly in her four-poster.

Hermione buried her dark thoughts and focused on the present. If this was all she got from him, she'd take it. She'd take the way his fingers would slip across the hollow of her elbow. The feeling of his breath on her ear when he stole a moment to press his nose to her hair.

In some conversations, he'd forget himself, and his hand would slide across her ribs, warm and firm. His fingers would curl around her opposite side, his knuckles teasing her bare arm, his thumb sparking shivers across her skin. When their backs were to a wall, he let his fingers slide up and tangle lightly in her curls, slipping across her shoulder blades and sloping up her neck to dance with the fine hairs standing on end there. She grew dizzy and light-headed with his attentions, her legs pressing together under the hundreds of layers of tulle. He leaned into her ear when their companion was distracted and whispered, "I've missed you."

Her lips trembled, and she pressed her eyes closed, willing herself not to cry. All she could do was nod as the older man turned to Draco with a, "Don't you agree?" — to which Draco smoothly did.

At ten minutes to midnight, the sound of wands tapping against champagne glasses signaled a toast. From their position at the far end of the room near the windows, she watched as a wave of people joined in, tapping against their glasses and turning towards the platform set up near the fireplace.

Narcissa ascended, and the applause of hundreds rang out. She cast an Amplifying Charm and greeted the room with a glowing smile. "Happy New Year. We're so pleased you could join us."

As the chatter in the room quieted, Blaise and a pretty olive-skinned girl appeared at their side, Theo and a stunning blonde girl trailing behind them. Blaise greeted Draco with a slightly drunken smirk. Theo nodded at him, looking quite miserable.

Every eye in the room was on Narcissa as she said a few words about the Dark Lord's victory, and honored those who had fallen. Before long, she was introducing Lucius.

The clock was minutes from striking midnight, and Hermione felt Draco being ripped from her with every tick of the second hand.

But then, Draco was stepping back towards the heavy drawing room curtains, tugging her lightly at her waist. She moved with him as he found a fold in the curtains, holding it open for her to sneak through. She looked back to see one of the beautiful balconies overlooking the gazebo. A place for them to be alone—

"And my son, Draco," Lucius boomed. "Who I couldn't be prouder of."

The curtain dropped. His hand slipped away from her waist. Every eye turned toward him, and he stepped forward with a forced smile.