A/N: hope anyone who reads this has a great day 3

·

It was the little things at first that led her to the conclusion—the end that couldn't be closer to the truth.

.

When they were little, Pansy and Draco used to explore their Manor's gardens in detail every afternoon, laughing and running and adventuring into the depths of every hidden passage or hollows of trees.

Pansy pleaded Draco to play their game every single time he came over. He would pretend to contemplate his decision for a while, but then erupt into a fox grin and agree to play with her.

It had been a version of Princess and the Bandits, a game that Pansy heard about from her elf Mitsy's nightly Muggle story time rituals.

The story went into detail about how a young princess, clad with brown locks and beaming eyes, got kidnapped by rapscallions on the eve of her birthday. The princess left her kingdom kicking and screaming as the head bandit merely laughed sardonically in pleasure. Over time, the princess was not the only thing that the bandit stole, but rather her heart as well.

The thief had become her new kingdom.

They fell in love; glorious, passionate love—the kind that Pansy wished for every day as Mitsy tucked her in at night.

She met Draco Malfoy at the age of five, when her mother and his met for tea in her living room. And Pansy knew that he was the one who stole her heart the minute he gave her toothy smile and jutted his hand out in introduction.

So, most of the time, when Draco came over in the afternoons, as the sunshine beat down on their faces and poured through her dresses, she begged him to play their game.

But knowing Draco—he never wanted to be a measly bandit.

"Pansy, Malfoys are nothing less than royalty," he had said, a look of disgust etching over his pointy features.

To him, he was the prince who fell in love with a savage girl not worth his time. Pansy let him be the prince, and her the bandit, just to play her favourite game.

She would craft him a crown made of daffodils—not lilacs, for they were way too girly for a prince like Draco Malfoy and not roses either, too prickly for his sensitive alabaster skin—and they would giggle into the early hours of the evening, watching the sky streak into a mirage of orange and pink.

Pansy would stretch out on her picnic blanket, slyly admiring Draco through hooded eyes as the sun shone through his blond hair and his laugh bursted through the air, because he was the type of boy that she heard about in stories—the princes that she prayed to fall in love with every night. He was her prince—and she, his thief.

.

Draco made her a friendship bracelet for her seventh birthday. He made her promise that they would always be friends while they were eating red velvet cake and gulping down milk.

She wiped away the milk moustache on his face before nodding yes.

He asked, "Friends forever?"

"And always," she repeated back.

.

They began Hogwarts at age 11; Pansy was one of the first girls in their year to develop breasts and spent most of her time hidden underneath her way-too-big ebony robes in embarrassment, and Draco developed a peculiar interest in goading Harry Potter, alongside Crabbe and Goyle.

Sometimes they would still spend time alone by the Black lake, and he would ramble on about his aspirations and dreams of becoming his father.

Pansy would bite her lip and nod because she was too interested in the way his mouth formed c's and o's to care much about what he was saying.

.

Sometimes, Pansy pondered about when it started—his slight infatuation with Hermione Granger, Mudblood extradonaire and best friends with The-Boy-Draco-Loathed-On-A-Daily-Basis.

Usually, when met in a hurl of insults between Draco and Potter, Granger stood idly by Potter's side, scrunching her eyebrows and jutting out her chin forcefully. Occasionally, Draco would unleash his tongue on the girl in question, relishing in the spark in her eye die out as he smoothed down his collar in a haughty action.

Draco told Granger he wished her dead in second year.

But when Granger got petrified, Pansy caught him sneaking out of the Slytherin dorms, with a box of dark chocolate truffles in his hand and a flush on his face, towards the infirmary.

She knew then.

.

Goyle vividly told Pansy that Draco had been smacked by the Mudblood when he had snuck out to watch the execution of the creature that had scared the living shit out of him.

Draco merely stuttered in shock, hand over his red cheek, before scurrying away. And Pansy nursed his broken nose and ego as she hugged tight him that night.

.

When Potter defeated the Dark Lord in fourth year during the Tournament, Pansy saw Draco retreat into his room during the summer for weeks on end, only coming out to briefly kiss his mother on the cheek or munch on crackers in the kitchens with his elves.

He came out of the confinement of his room in mid-July, he smiled at Pansy, and she never heard him utter the word Mudblood again.

.

Pansy snogged boy after boy in fifth year, some behind tapestries and some on the Astronomy tower and some against a wall in the corridor, in perfect view for anyone to see. She placed all her longing into her kissing, pretending that Draco was the one she got close with every night.

Draco confronted her about it a couple weeks later when she returned late at night, lips swollen and hair mussed from kissing Anthony Goldstein, a guy who used way too much tongue for his own good and gave little time to breathe in between snogs.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Pansy?" Draco snapped, sitting calmly on a green couch in their common room. "Going off and sneaking around with a new guy every night, like some common slag."

Pansy clenched her jaw, stalking up to the blond, and lifting her hand to slap him tight on the face. He stopped her wrist midway and practically snarled at her.

"Let go of me, Draco!" she yelled in his face as he stood up to tower over her. "Why do you care anyways?"

"I care because you're my best friend!" he shouted back. "What's gotten into you lately? You barely talk to me, you're off snogging whomever you please in broom closets, for Merlin's sake. Do you even know their names?"

He sneered down at her, his grip growing tighter around her dainty wrist.

"Of course I do, Draco!" Her eyes began burning from the salt threatening to spill. "Unlike you, I spend time doing things instead of following one girl like a puppy!"

He obviously noticed she was about to burst into tears, because his features softened and he pulled her into his warm chest, tucking his chin over her head.

"Don't do this to yourself, Pansy," Draco mumbled. "One day, you'll find your prince, remember?"

He pulled back to wipe away her tears with the pads of his thumb and smile in her direction.

She gave a broken laugh and nodded, trying to restrain herself from saying how she had already found hers.

The next day, Pansy wore a daffodil in her hair.

The blond had been too busy to notice, though; his lips were busy mouthing off Granger about accidentally bumping into him in the corridor on their way to Charms.

.

Granger and Draco were Head Boy and Girl in seventh year.

Pansy had told Draco that she had been in love with him for years that summer. He gave a sad smile and hugged her, telling her that she was his best friend, and he didn't want to ruin what they already had.

But seeing him get fired up with Granger at every single prefect meeting made Pansy desolate for days on end.

Granger and him would argue, their noses in each other's face and hands vigorously gesturing, and it was like their entire attention was encompassed by one another.

And then slowly, but surely, Pansy noticed the difference—

They went on patrols together. They became partners in Potions. They took the same NEWT classes, read the same mystery books, answered the same mundane questions in class with exquisite detail.

She even saw them laughing over McGonagall's robes in Transfiguration for minutes on end—and the look on Draco's face for the rest of the day was telling enough, he was happy when he was with her.

Draco began flirting with Granger at the prefect meetings, telling her to sit down before her pretty little head got matted in the process of yelling at Weasley for going off and snogging Brown during his scheduled patrols. Granger would blush and hide her face behind her blanket of hair.

Granger let Draco borrow a book of hers—a Muggle one—when he complained about the lack of adventure stories in the Hogwarts library. It was almost a thousand pages long. Draco read it all in one night.

After the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch game, the bushy brunette hopped down the stands, smiling as she congratulated Draco on his match and side-hugged him briefly. The blond hadn't even caught the snitch, but the two pink circles on his cheeks showed he had won much more than he could hold.

Draco ate breakfast with her one morning during their winter hols—in which he had pleaded to his parents to stay at Hogwarts because Granger had a falling out with Weasley over something stupid and couldn't go his home during the holidays. Granger helped Draco lather his whole wheat toast with black cherry jam—his absolute favourite—before pretending to feed it to him and slamming the sweet substance in his chin. Draco pretended to be mad before merely swiping it off his skin and running it down her cheek so they could match.

Pansy heard Draco asked Granger to wear his green and silver scarf at his Quidditch match against Hufflepuff right before the game started. Granger bit her lip, casting a weary glance at Potter and Weasley, who were too busy warming up to notice anything, before eagerly nodding. Draco grinned like a child at Christmas when the oversized emerald scarf hung down her neck on the Gryffindor stands.

Draco brought Granger to a Slytherin party three months after their friendship struck. When they walked in, Draco's hand on Granger's waist, Blaise Zabini clapped Draco on the back and hooted and a sloshed Goyle handed Granger a glass of Ogden's finest. She acted like a leech, sticking by Draco for the entire night, not that he minded—he was so enamoured with her at that point that his eyes would follow Granger's movements regardless of where she was at the moment. When they finally separated for a brief second when Granger met Tracey Davis for the first time, Astoria Greengrass climbed into Draco's lap, running her hands though his luscious blond hair and whispering in his ear. Pansy saw Granger trying to leave the common room unnoticed, head down and jaw ticked a couple of minutes later. But Draco noticed. He gruffly pushed Astoria off his lap, clambering to his feet as he ran after Granger in the corridor of the dungeons.

The next week, Draco got admitted into the infirmary because of bruises scattered across his torso. He wouldn't tell Pansy how it happened—instead he made some dull excuse about falling off his broomstick, even though he hadn't done anything that remotely stupid since second year. So, Pansy stuck her tongue out at him and began to read a romance novel on the stool beside his bed until Draco folded his stubbornness and told her the real story. But Pansy made her own inference when Granger ran towards his cot after breakfast in the Hall, bawling her eyes out, and apologising profusely for Thomas and Finnigan. Draco held her and whispered something in her ear that made Granger clutch onto his shoulders even tighter and kiss him on the cheek over and over again.

The last time Pansy saw them talking was in the stacks in the library one day in April—Draco with a longing look on his face and Granger irritated with whatever Draco seemed to be whispering to her, his hands running softly in her curls. It ended when Draco seemed to try to hug Granger, but she swatted away his embrace and promptly stomped out from the library, hair sizzling in fury.

After that, Pansy noticed how he stared at her across the tables during mealtimes or lifted his head from his classwork whenever she raised her hand to speak.

But Draco never spoke to Granger or about her for the rest of the year.

Pansy asked him about what happened in May as they sat together by the Black Lake, and he immediately told her to piss off, stomping away from their conversation in a fit of anger.

Granger graduated with pride and moved on with her life; Draco graduated in a slump, transferring his feelings of worthlessness onto Pansy's back.

Pansy just wish she had known that sooner.

.

Draco asked Pansy out four months after graduation.

He gave her a bouquet of daffodils—which she helped him craft into a crown to place on his head—when he picked her up for lunch.

They laughed over the flowers getting stuck in his locks, and he kissed her for the first time under the sunshine.

.

Pansy knew that Draco would never cheat on her, never in a million years. He made that promise during fifth year, when they sat side by side on the roof of the greenhouse at night, echoing out the story of his parents—how their arranged pureblood marriage left no viable love to be shared, and how giggles through the walls of his Manor told the stories of their extramarital affairs. He crossed his heart and swore that he would never pursue another person while attached in another relationship; it simply hurt too much.

Pansy had turned her head on the roof to glance at him—the boy with pale blond hair and a shy smile and an iridescent complexion.

She knew he would never break his promise; Draco Malfoy never did.

.

They were discussing their day over lemon-buttered salmon and garlic asparagus at their flat when she found out about it—about the arrival of the know-it-all Gryffindor, who joined the Ministry after taking a couple years break to 'find herself'.

Draco had scoffed, chewing on his vegetables a little too vigorously when he described her.

Granger just walks into the bloody place like she owns it and You should've seen her, Pans, it's like the Prefect days at Hogwarts all over again and She waved to me when she visited Potter's office like we were old friends, the annoying swot.

Pansy merely nodded and bit her lip to stop her from saying 'you were friends for months'. She dully scraped her fork against her plate, because he never talked about Pansy with this much fervour lacing his words. And now as Draco passionately explained how much Granger had changed since graduation, Pansy tightly smiled and knew she was wrecked.

.

The months following had little to no mention of Granger at the dinner table, but Pansy knew he was quickly becoming friends with her.

She had walked into his home study one morning to find him reading a piece of parchment paper, a giddy smile on his face that reminded her of their childhood days that they spent running around the gardens of his Manor. He bit his bottom lip at the end of the note, shaking his head as he breathed out a laugh.

"Who's it from?" Pansy asked, walking over behind his mahogany desk to pepper a kiss on his cheek that he half-heartedly returned.

"Just a co-worker," he had replied.

She looked over his shoulder to see Granger's handwriting, 'i's' dotted with small open-circled dots and 'y's' swirled into a loop.

He picked up his own quill, elegantly scripting a formal response: G—I beg you to reconsider your opinion on the art of origami…

.

The Ministry balls, full of cutthroat politicians and barely accounted for employees, proved her thoughts even further.

Pansy and Draco had been sitting at table number 23, as the blond bobbed his head up and down and swirled the strawberry champagne in his flute, when she walked down.

They both looked up, him towards the entrance where Granger's laugh resonated and Pansy in the direction of her boyfriend; it reminded her too much of the Yule Ball during fourth year—his parted lips and silver eyes grazing over the subconscious object of his desire.

The Yule Ball had been a disaster in itself for Pansy and her unresponsive date. Draco had also spent most of that night clenching his fist tightly around a goblet of pumpkin juice and shamelessly staring at Granger the entire night.

Granger had worn a scarlet halter dress that shimmered in the light and slit down on of her thighs at the Ministry ball—the one thrown in her honour. And she looked absolutely stunning, honey hair cascading down her back and a smile forever etched on her red-stained lips.

The girl in question caught Draco's gaze and made her way over to their table, gifting a genuine smile and handshake in Pansy's direction and a 'fist bump', as she called the Muggle greeting, in Draco's direction, one that made him crane his head back and laugh.

Draco stood up to bump shoulders with Granger, his stature towering over the girl in scarlet as they talked with one another, laughing over inside jokes and poorly made puns.

Pansy pretended to not notice the look in his eyes when he talked to her—one full of intensity and adoration and love.

And when Granger accepted her award for her work with orphaned wizards and witches at the ball that night, she looked for his eyes in the crowd.

.

The months after the ball had quickly caught up with Pansy.

Draco and Pansy had been walking down Diagon Alley, hand-in-hand, discussing mundane topics when he spotted Flourish and Blott's. He pleaded and pouted at Pansy to let him spend a couple minutes in there—for Granger had eagerly wanted a book on the wait-list, and although the book shop had turned away Granger, he swore that with the Malfoy name, despite its past associations, he could get it in under five minutes.

He was right; he had come out, the spoken for novel clad in his hand, as he gifted a shy smile in Pansy's direction.

And his smug grin hadn't faded for the rest of the day.

.

Pansy smoothed down her skirt and slipped her toes further down into her nude heels as she stood in the lift going up to Draco's office in the Ministry.

She held a lunch for him, full of his favourite fruit and juices packed by Mitsy, after he Owled her to tell her about his throbbing headache.

When the familiar ding of the lift chimed out, Pansy gave a predatory smile to the elevator operator before clicking her heels down the tiled floors of the Ministry. Pansy stopped in front of his silver door—the one etching his name in gold before going in.

Her wide smile dimmed down a bit when she saw Hermione Granger sitting in the chair by his desk—the one he never let anyone sit in—chewing on a quill and reading a piece of parchment on his mahogany desk.

Granger whipped up her head when she heard the door open, and with her lips slightly parted, she gave a hearty smile in Pansy's direction.

"Hi, Pansy!" Granger echoed, standing up from his leather chair to greet her."Are you looking for Malfoy?"

"Er, yes," Pansy muttered. "Do you know where he is? I brought him a snack."

"Yes, of course. He popped into my office down the hall for a bit to have a nap on my couch," Granger explained with a movement of her head. Pansy thought she looked like a bobblehead. "All Malfoy has in this very sleek office, no doubt, is an antique Persian vase and a picture of his mother." She laughed before continuing. "Here, let me show you where my office is."

She began walking over to Pansy, but the latter held up her hand.

"No need to wake him up, can you just give him this? And tell him I hope he feels better."

"No worries, of course I will." Granger accepted the bag of fruit and smiled again.

"Thanks."

Pansy flooed home and slept her oncoming tears away.

.

Granger's birthday party was weeks later. They had both been invited, Pansy as Draco's plus one, for an evening get-together at the Weasley household underneath twinkling lanterns and the night sky.

Draco stressed over the part of his hair for an hour before they were due at the Weasley's, as he rushed around for gel and a comb and proper charming spells.

When they finally Apparated to the party, Draco bit the inside of his cheek in anxiousness—for what, Pansy could only guess. He held Granger's red and gold wrapped present in one hand and placed his other on the small of Pansy's back.

Granger eagerly opened the door and ushered them to the back gardens, while Mrs. Weasley prompted them to eat as much vanilla ice cream cake as humanly possible and Potter smirked when the crowd roared after his joke about the snakes infesting the Weasel town.

It had been a small soiree, filled with dancing and eating and watching Granger smile at everyone with bright eyes and true intentions.

Later in the evening, Pansy had been searching for the loo when she saw them, alone in a hallway. Granger had been in a creamy lace sundress, her curls tucked behind a blue velvet headband as she leaned against a wall in the corridor. Draco was standing across from her, laughing at something she told him. He made move to ruffle her hair as a gesture of affection, and she swatted away his hand playfully.

"You're practically my grandmother's age, Granger," he said drolly, his fingers tugging at her honey curls. "You know that you're a year older than me?"

"Draco Malfoy," she tutted, wagging her finger in his chest. "I invite you to my birthday party, and how do you repay me? By pointing out my wrinkles? I'll have you know that I'm only 22! And only nine months elder to you!"

"It's okay, I like older women, you little bookworm." He winked at her before throwing his arm over her shoulder and matting up her hair with his fist. Granger squealed before erupting into giggles.

Pansy walked away after that, the ache in her chest never quite leaving for the rest of the night.

.

"Hey, where are you headed, Draco?" Pansy asked from the bed as the blond did up his tie in the mirror by their closet. "It's a Saturday."

He turned around briefly, hands still dutifully working on his knot.

"Didn't I tell you? Granger and I are working on a proposal for the new curriculum in Hogwarts," Draco briefly explained. "We have our meeting with the education board this morning."

"Oh," Pansy breathed out, wrapping the black silk sheet tighter around her body. "You didn't tell me."

He finished on his red tie and stalked over to the edge of the bed, splashing a kiss on Pansy's cheek before grabbing his briefcase.

"Well, I'll be back late tonight," Draco said, ruffling his hand through Pansy's ebony locks. "Wish me luck."

His feet moved towards their bedroom door, closing it behind them after winking in Pansy's direction.

Pansy sunk back into the mattress, fluttering her eyelids shut and wishing she was a child again.

.

She guessed the culmination of his feelings started when he stopped having sex with her.

Their physical relationship ended nine months after Granger came back into their lives. Most nights, he claimed exhaustion from work or feeling a bit low from sickness. Or sometimes he would just give her a brief peck on the lips before asking her to go to dinner or something else.

He never kissed her longer than a second anymore, never cuddled in bed, never hugged her from behind, never took on dates and bought her expensive jewellery, just because; and it was like they were back to being best friends—the only thing preventing that being the title of their relationship.

.

It ended a stormy night two months after Granger's birthday.

He had come home, tie loosened and shirt untucked, after a day at work, while he constantly ran his hands over his face in a bout of sleepiness.

Pansy had been waiting at home for them to have dinner together for nearly two hours prior, but he never showed up.

She asked him why he was so late, and Draco gave the same mundane answer he had been telling her for weeks, finally making Pansy snap.

"You can't just prioritise everything over me!" she yelled into his face.

"I'm not, Pansy! It's called having a job, not that you would know anything about that sort!"

"Yeah, well I'm sure if a certain Gryffindor requested to have dinner with you at a certain time everyday, you'd show up early!"

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means!"

"Whatever, Pansy. Talk to me when you stop spewing out your bloody assumptions."

Pansy clenched her jaw, her eyes stinging with betrayal.

And then Draco sighed, for he was never one to hold grudges anymore, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out. Work's just been…stressful."

His words are swallowed by the engulfing silence that follows.

"Our relationship has been stressful, Draco."

"Pansy, I-I just don't think this is working out," he finally whispered, straying his eyes away from hers.

The tension in the air was terse.

Pansy gulped down her sob and said, "Do you love her?"

He didn't pretend not to know who Pansy was talking about and nodded shamefully.

"Does she love you too?"

"I-I…don't know."

But Pansy knew.

"Please tell me the truth, Draco. Did you guys…" Pansy's voice cracked at the end, but she persevered. "D-did you like her when you asked me out? Was it all just a way for you to get over her…?"

Draco was silent for a long time after she asked it, his forehead scrunched in a deep thought. "She told me that…" He took a pause and licked his lips, unsurely. "She told me that she was in love with me. Not now, but before, during school."

"In the l-library?"

He seemed utterly confused, but Pansy thought she hit the nail on the head, the evidence clear from his wide eyes and gaping mouth.

"Then what did you say, Draco, huh?" Pansy felt her stomach stir with anger. "That you liked her back? You lied to me, you selfish bastard. You played with my feelings for years. You played with me for years. You pathetic, insufferable man!"

"I told her I felt the same way, yes."

He was always one for the truth, even if it hurt, even if it meant ripping the person's soul out in agonising pain. Pansy cast her head down towards the floor, because surely half her heart must be lying down there, craving comfort and love from the man in front of her.

She lifted her head up and scowled. "Screw you, Draco Malfoy!"

Pansy began to saunter off, but he held her wrist. Draco turned her face towards him and mumbled, "I told her I loved her, but I said that couldn't date her because of what you had told me that summer. And I couldn't hurt your feelings by acting on some stupid crush I had been harbouring on Granger for years."

His excuse was pitiful, at best. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

Pansy shook her head, trying to shake his grip from her hands as well.

"Don't you even dare! Don't you dare try using me as an excuse. It's not fair to me, and you know it, Draco. Why didn't you just—? Gods, I don't know. What were you even thinking? Were you scared that if you had given her your heart then she would've merely played with your poor, poor feelings? Because that sounds exactly like what you did to me. Oh, poor Draco Malfoy! What a sad life he must've had! Been half in love with someone for years, and when she feels the same way, he pushes her away because of his petty insecurities!"

Pansy scoffed when she finished.

Draco's grip on her hands loosened, and his whole face looked like it had been slapped—features glazed over with pain.

And the only thing he said was, "I'm sorry."

He didn't try to deny anything else, because Pansy and him both knew that what she was saying was true. After all, they were both the people who knew Draco Malfoy the best.

"Pansy, you know I still love you, but it's different—we're different. We're not the same people we were years ago, but you're still my best friend, you know that, right?" Draco had finally said, coming closer towards her to rest his palm against her cheek. "Forever and always."

She turned her face away from him before replying. "I know, but I need…But I just need some space, can you do that for me?"

"I would do anything for you."

She nodded with teary eyes and knew that Draco Malfoy would forever hold her heart. Pansy let Draco take her crumbling body in his arms, while his fingers brushed comforting strokes down her back.

"Stop being a dense idiot, and ask Granger out. You've played with her feelings enough already," she mumbled into his shirt.

.

One month later, Pansy read in the news that Draco took Granger on a date in France.

Witch Weekly showed pictures of them eating crème brûlée while holding hands on a private boat on the Seine, the article spewing out something about how Draco Malfoy ditches the callous Pansy for sweet and loving Granger, who spends her free time helping wizard orphans and organising kitty adoptions for those terminally ill.

Pansy burnt it in her fireplace.

.

The next time Pansy saw Draco, it had been at Theodore Nott's annual New Year's party, an excuse for old friends to get together and get smashed and snog underneath the stars.

When she finished hanging up her grey pea coat on the rack, she turned to see his flash of blond hair, the one she had grown up watching the sunlight flicker through, lighting his head up like a halo.

He was standing by the chocolate strawberry table, laughing at something that Goyle was telling him. He looked absolutely wonderful in his deep maroon shirt and black trousers, and Pansy felt her heart beat out of her chest.

His eyes met hers through at the entrance, and he grinned easily, the boyish tone running through his features. She smiled back.

Draco made a move to walk up to her, but she lifted a hand and shook her head. His face flashed briefly with hurt, but instead he feigned passiveness and smiled again.

The new year was nearly upon the guests of the party as Theo made everyone grab a flute of champagne and mingle for the next few minutes.

She saw Granger talking to the host himself near the countdown to the new year, vivaciously telling Theo a story, filled with hand gestures and head movements.

When the whole party began screaming out the numbers before the new year, Draco had walked up to Granger from behind and scared her, but she merely gave out a squeak before wrapping her arms around his waist.

The blond gave her a knowing smirk before nuzzling his nose into her locks. Granger herself stood on her tiptoes before planting a lingering kiss on his lips and running her hands through his hair, lovingly.

She pulled away, and Pansy saw Draco's entire face light up celestially, his eyes crinkling and face scrunching in a wide grin. Draco grabbed Granger's waist and lifted her up, kissing her fervently all over her laughing face and spinning in a circle as confetti and bubbles erupted around them when the grandfather clock in Theo's drawing room struck midnight.

And maybe then Pansy admitted how if he was the prince, Granger was the one who stole his heart.