I'm glad to be rid of him ~ Draco Malfoy Fanfiction
Draco leaves you at the altar and you decide to seek revenge, until you discover why. (Pranks inspired by the movie 'the other woman')
Pairing: Draco Malfoy + Ganger!reader
Word count: 4800+ words, (PLS, this was supposed to be 1.5k)
waning: pranks I guess, a lot of talk about being left at the altar, get's pretty angst at the end, breaking things, I think that's all, but lmk.
Alternate more angsty ending here
Requests are open just be sure to follow the request guidelines.<3.
I look at myself in the mirror for the last time, taking in a deep breath for the last time. Adjusting my veil over my head, making sure it falls just right. Oooh, I really hope I don’t cry, I forgot to bring the waterproof mascara, and had to borrow regular mascara from Hermione. She walks in and closes the door behind her. I smile at my sister, but she takes a second before turning, she says, “We have a problem.”
“Tell Ron that if he can’t figure out how to use the camera, that he should give it to Harry instead,” I say, Ron has been insistent that he be the one to take the photos, but he couldn’t figure out a muggle camera if his life depended on it. Hermione shakes her head, and my blood runs cold. My mind reels at all the possibilities; did the venue get double booked? Did the caterer pull out at the last second? Did the-
“The Malfoys are here.”
My whole body stiffens, and I walk back a few steps, only slightly stepping on my huge white dress. I sink onto the big chair, pulling the sleeve of my dress back to my shoulders, and clutching the fabric in front of my heart to prepare for the news, if the Malfoys were here that didn’t mean anything good. I doubt they would be happy with their son marrying a muggleborn.
“Draco-he- he left with them. He said there isn’t going to be a wedding.”
***
It’s been exactly three months since it happened. Three months since Draco-that slimmey git left me the day of my wedding, in front of all my friends and family. After a whole month of wallowing, I decided that I shouldn’t be the one to suffer, he should. He couldn’t escape me, even after what he did, he couldn’t flee from what he did, not when we worked in the same office at the ministry.
“Hello, yes? This is Mr. Malfoy’s secretary, I’m sending in this patronus to make sure that you put him on the list for any updates-” I hum, “Yes, updates about well, what updates can you offer?”
The woman working at the Daily Prophet’s office starts listing out all the categories; sports, literature, science, politics, animals, the crossword puzzle, the comic books, and more and more. She asks, “Along with the newspaper there is also a new special- fast alert feature where we can send a patronus alert.”
“You mean, wherever he is…whenever there is an update, you’ll send a patronus to him, with the information?” I clarify, the idea of a patronus appearing and booming with noise to tell him about things like an ongoing conflict to a new crossword, has me twirling around on my office chair. The woman agrees and I say, “Well, then send both the patronus alert and the newspapers please.”
I start to give her the bank number at Gringotts, his bank number at Gringotts, where she can go and collect the money. He seemed to have forgotten to have changed his bank account number when he decided that we weren’t going to get married anymore, too bad for him, but the reason for this wasn’t about wasting his money, but rather seeing him annoyed.
“Oh, and make sure that I’m the only one who can cancel his subscription, thank you very much!”
It started working less than half a day later. It started out with a small owl delivering the newspaper of the day to him during lunch, it landed right on his head and fell into his plate of food. I laughed from the corner of his room, holding my own plate of food as a bit of his soup splashed onto his face. He picks it up, looking at it suspiciously before tucking it into his briefcase.
Then, the patronus subscription was activated. Now, I was aware that he was going to be getting at least two alerts a day, but what I didn’t know is that he was going to get at least two alerts every hour. For the seventh time that day, a patronus appeared in front of his desk, only a few desks away from mine. The patronus said, “Mr. Malfoy, you are receiving this patronus because a new volume of the famous ‘Potions Partners’ romance comic was released thirty seconds ago.”
“I don’t care about some stupid comic!” Draco shouts, infuriated as a few of our colleagues groan at the interruption for the millionth time today. I, however, enjoy the vein that’s just about to burst on his forehead. He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face frustrated, “I apologise everyone, I’ll call the office and try to cancel this subscription.”
Goodluck with that!
***
Theodore sits in front of me with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. He’s very conflicted about this, but I hope he caves in. He tuts, “I don’t know about this.”
“All you’ll have to do is sneak this into his bathroom next boys night,” I repeat, slipping the potion into his hand once again. Theodore was the only one of Draco’s friends to attend the wedding-before. He shakes his head, and says, “A Daily Prophet subscription is one thing, but this…I don’t think I can do that to him.”
“Doesn’t he deserve it, Theo?” I say, slipping in the nickname for good measure, holding his hand in mine. I explain, “He was awful to me, and besides it will grow back-”
“He loves his hair, Birdie,” he says, using my own nickname to try to convince me, but I pout. Draco’s hair is possibly his best feature; the color, the length (that he obsessively keeps the same), the feel of it when I run my fingers through- I try, ““Worst case is that he’ll get another potion and it will make his hair grow back like this-”
“Exactly! You won’t even get to see it,” he opposes, but a wicked grin spreads over my face, as I watch his play with the hair remover potion in his hands disguised as Draco’s favourite shampoo, I smirk, “No but I’ll imagine it.”
When he starts to wash out his shampoo and the hair keeps falling into his fingers, until he starts to freak out- stepping out of the shower to look into his mirror to find zero hair still on his head. I squeeze his hands, and ask, “will you do it, Theo?”
“He was a prick…” he thinks, the idea starting to sink in as he remembers the night when he had to hold me while I cried because of what Draco did. I wriggle my legs excitedly and I push, “Yes, he was a prick, and it’s totally harmless.”
Little did he know that I planned on buying all of the hair growth potions within the area, as soon as he accepted this potion in his hands. He looks up at the ceiling, conflicted, and then he shakes his head, and gives in, “Fine!”
He stands up and I clap my hands together, a large smile spreading over my face as I reach over to hug him. He pats my bag and moves to the side, and he gives me a pointed look, and points at me with his index finger, “I still think that the both of you should talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I refuse, there’s nothing he could say that I would even want to hear. There is no excuse for what he did, he already knew that his parents didn’t approve of us, what could they have said to magically change his mind for the few minutes that they popped up for? And, honestly? I’m glad to be rid of him.
***
“You did this!” A voice shouts, as soon as the elevator door dings open on our floor. I’m waving my wand to hold up a stack of files up in the air till I get to my office. Even while working at the ministry of magic, I still have to work with files. I turn around quickly and see Draco walking-no stomping towards me with a large pink scarf on his head. I chortle immediately, remembering that yesterday was a Sunday, the day where Theodore spends his time with Draco.
He stops in front of me and I bite the inside of my cheek to try to stifle my laughter. People who pass by take note of Draco Malfoy walking furiously into the office, earlier than usual, his tie all crooked and his suit wrinkled with a pink scarf covering up his usually shiny platinum blond hair. I try to ignore the fact that it’s actually my pink scarf that he’s using to hide his, probably now bald head.
“Did what?” I ask innocently, purposefully making my eyes wider and putting my lips into a pout, with a slight tilt to my head. But I can help but ask, “Malfoy, why are you hiding your head like that? Is something wrong?”
“You know what’s wrong,” he seethes, the way he used to do when we were in Hogwarts together. I purse my lips and shrug my shoulders, turning around and walking away, flicking my wrist to make sure that the papers continue to follow me. I hum, “Nope, no clue.”
He lets out a noise halfway in between a huff and a groan, and he takes my hand in his own and tugs me along with him. From the shock of his cold hand against mine, the papers that were flying beside me, dropped to the ground, causing more people to look at us. He dragged me to our department and I only tried to rip my hand away a few times, I didn't want to cause more people to look at us.
I ignore the way his hand feels so familiar in mine, and the fact that this is the first time I’ve shared even a few words with him in months. He shuts the door to his office behind us, and he tears my scarf from his head. He points to his shiny bald head with his finger, angrily and shouts, “THIS!”
I can’t help myself and I burst out laughing, the noise coming deep from inside my stomach. He drops my hand and he folds his arms in front of his chest. Serves him right, he leaves me at my wedding and then goes on to get promoted. I continue to laugh and Draco starts to tap his foot impatiently on the ground, but some of the fury fades from his eyes.
“Like I said, you did this,” he repeats, as soon as my laughter dies down, though I have to make an effort not to look above his eyes or else I’ll start laughing again. He puts his hand out in front of me and he demands, “Now, hand over all the hair growth potions that you’ve taken from every place in this city.”
I just love it when a plan falls perfectly into place. I shake my head, and I repeat with a bit more bite, “Like I said, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I chortle again when I notice his eyebrows looking a little less dense than usual, the potion must’ve made it to his eyebrows too. Draco is fully frowning, and he furrows his eyebrows, before saying, “You can yell at me if you want.”
“What?”
“You never got the chance to yell at me after…what happened,” he whispers in the last part, and all the amusement fades from my body. I never did yell, or shout or even talk to him after he left. Why would I? He didn’t want to be with me anymore and decided to ‘tell’ me in the worst way possible. I scoff, “I don’t need to, I’m over you.”
He’s about to open his mouth when a knock sounds at the opposite end of the door. He clears his throat, and wraps my scarf around his head, and he opens the door. Knightly, an intern is waiting at the door, holding the papers that I’d dropped only a few minutes ago. He beams when he sees me, though my head is still reeling at Draco’s words. Did he think I was still hung up on him?
“Ah, here are your papers, miss, I saw that you dropped them outside,” he mumbles, nervous but with a smile. I walk outside the office, Draco still holding the door open. I whisper the incantation under my breath and the papers fly to the air once more. Does he think that I’m still angry? That I’m still hurt or something? I only do these ‘pranks’ for my amusement, just because he’s the target that doesn’t mean-
“Thank you, Knightly, that was very kind of you,” I say, giving him a smile, and he flushes. I walk out of the office, not bothering to spare Draco a glance. There’s still a long day of work ahead of me, and I’m not going to let Draco’s arrogance make the day any longer. Seriously, how long did he think I was going to sit around and mope for?
***
“Have you thought about dating anyone?” Hermione asks me while we’re having lunch in her office. It’s been hard to find quality time to spend with her ever since she became the minister of magic. I choke on the sandwich that she’s bought me and I have to fumble for the glass of water sitting on her desk to stop the coughing fit that I’m having. She looks at me concerned and I have to clear my throat before asking, “what?”
“Well, it’s just that, you haven’t gone on any dates since…” she trails off, yes, since I was left the day of my wedding, does everyone have to remind me every few seconds? I shrug my shoulders, I defend myself, “It hasn’t been all that long, you know- and no one’s piqued my interest, I mean if I saw someone I liked then maybe, but I’m not really interested in anyone.”
“So if you found someone you were interested in, you’d go out on a date with them,” she asks, her posture raised like a meerkat. I shrug my shoulders again, and I look around the room, the idea of going on a date with anyone other than Draco makes the bile rise in my throat, what’s even worse, is the fact that it does. I lied, “Yeah, I guess.”
“What about Dean?” Hermione suggests, it takes me a second to realise that she’s giving me an option for a person to date. I look at her confused but I reply, “Dean Thomas? No, he’s more of a friend than anything else.”
“What about Fred? You always said that he was the most attractive Weasley,” she suggests another, and this time I can’t let the confusion go. I put my sandwich down and fold my hands on my lap. Why would I want to go out with my sister’s brother in law, and my long-term friend? Is she just naming every boy she knows? I ask, “Why are you pushing this?”
“I think you should get out more, maybe go on a date, it has been four months,” she replies, avoiding eye contact and picking up her teaspoon to stir the liquid in her cup. I give her a pointed look when she finally looks at me and she gives in, “I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but Ron and I, we saw Draco out on a date yesterday.”
“He what?” I repeat, and my sister knows better than to repeat her statement. I feel a pound in my chest. Four months was enough time for him to get over everything, but I guess, there never really was much for him to get over, he’s the one that didn’t want to marry me. After eight years…I feel my eyes start to water, and I want to slap myself silly. I whisper, “He’s on a date.”
“With Astoria Greengrass,” Hermione adds, and my head snaps up from my lap. All the sadness dissipates and it’s turned into hot, red fury. I grit my teeth and I ask, “Astoria? His ex?”
She nods her head, feverishly, and I nearly snark at the information. I groan loudly and I stand up from my chair abruptly, I curl my wand tightly in my grip, and I stomp out of my sister’s office. I murmur her name under my breath, “Astoria Greengrass.”
I scoff and make it to the elevator, punching the numbers down to my department. I ignore the other two people standing in the elevator, and I pound my feet impatiently into the ground. He went on a date, huh? We will see about that. The elevator doors’ ding open and I match out of there.
I make my way to the offices, and I ignore the people waving and manoeuvres through the crowd of people, getting their work done. Astoria, the same girl that we almost broke up almost four years ago because he wouldn’t believe that her crush on him never faded. He didn’t see the way she looked at him! With heart eyes and the way she looked at me like I was just something in the way. He told me not to worry. That dirty rat!
I reach the end of the corridor and I don’t bother to knock on the door that says ‘Mr. Malfoy’, before slamming the door open. I skim the room, he’s not in his office, good. I see all the things I didn’t see the first time I was in here. In the corner of the room there’s the golf clubs that his mother got him for the first golf tournament that he won. I grab the biggest and heaviest one of them all, I take a swing at his desk.
The object clatter on the ground and on his desk. Did he not want to marry me because he wanted her instead? I slam the club harder onto his desk, the clock tipping over and clinks onto the ground, along with his quill holder. The ink falls to the ground staining his carpet, but I don’t care. Was this even their first date? Or just the first date that I found out about?
I notice the picture frame that’s on his desk, of him and I, in our house together only a few days after we moved in. I drop the club and grab the picture frame, throwing it to the wall, watching as the glass breaks, while we keep moving in the picture, the movement cutting off just as Draco bends down to kiss me. Was he with her when we were together?
I don’t even notice that I’m crying until the door to his office swings open, Draco rushing in distressed. Someone must’ve heard the noise and told him. I notice all the people standing behind the door and I turn my face, wiping away the tears that were falling. I hear the door click shut, and I sniffle. I can’t believe that I wrecked someone’s office.
“Are you okay?” Draco’s soft voice asks, and I feel his hands just barely skimming over my shoulders. I turn to him, angrily and the tears start streaming again. I shout, “Of course not! How could I be okay if I’m here trashing your office like some kind of crazy person!”
Wasn’t this mad, angry phase supposed to pass a few months ago? He pulls his hands back to his sides, and I let out a sob, looking at the broken glass against the wall and I notice another thing, on one of the shelves of his desk, flickering the light coming from the ceiling and the candles, there they are, our wedding rings. I start to fume, “And how are you even asking me that?!”
“You ruined everything! We were together for eight years, and that didn’t mean anything to you! At least in the movies when someone gets left at the altar, they get a note or something! We were supposed to be together forever! And when I finally start to get better and get over you, you ask me why I haven’t shouted at you.” I gasp breaths in between my sentences, “Of course, I didn’t shout, and of course I didn’t yell because why would I let you know that you hurt me?”
I walk towards him, and I raise my hands up to slam them against his chest. They only land in a soft thud before I start to cry harder and say, “Why would I let you know that you broke me when you so clearly don’t care about me?”
The sobs rake through my body, each one coming out more broken than the other. My cheeks still flush embarrassed at all this, I can’t believe I let him know all this and especially when he’s just been on a date with another woman less than twenty four hours ago nonetheless. I rest my fists helplessly on his chest, and he cradles my wrists with his hands.
He folds my arms in between us and he embraces me, arms wrapped around my body. It only makes me feel worse, the familiar scent of mint, green apples, and his cologne so familiar and it makes my heart quiet down. I’ve had a lot of hugs in the last few months; my parents, my friends, my sister, and this is the one that comforts me the most.
“I hate you,” I say, muffled by my tears and stuffed nose, not meaning a word of it. He only squeezes me tighter. I accidentally rubbed my face against his chest and against his tie, not just any tie, the tie that I got him for one of our anniversaries, there were so many that I can’t remember which one. I feel the sinking feeling in my stomach even more.
“I still love you.”
I shove his chest, and he stumbles back. The evidence suggests that he does; the years spent together, the years before that too, our rings on his shelf, the photo of us on his desk, the scarf of mine that he keeps, the tie that he still wears, and the look on his face now, that I’ve seen after every fight, but this isn’t like every fight and there’s another thing that goes against all that evidence, I yell, “How dare you? How dare you say that to me?”
“You still love me? You left me at our wedding! You were out on a date with another woman last night! You still love me?” I didn’t even know that my voice could reach this volume of menace and anger. He shakes his head vigorously and he takes a step towards me, I flush against the wall of his office, keeping the space between us. He negates, “I haven’t been on a date with anyone!”
“Don’t lie to me, my sister saw you yesterday with Astoria,” I say, thinking about him sitting opposite to her at a fancy restaurant, their legs intertwined under the table and their hands above the table. Did the night even end at the restaurant? He says, “that was business.”
“Business, right,” I scoff, folding my arms over my chest. I look away from him only to be reminded of the mess that I made in his office and I look back at him again. His hair’s already started to grow, looking like he’d got his hair buzzed instead. Damn him for still looking good. Draco explains, “Mr. Greengrass wanted to invest in a new Floo network, and he sent Astoria to teach her how to negotiate…though I doubt that was the only reason.”
Astoria probably begged her father to send her to that meeting, knowing Draco was finally single. I don’t say a word, thinking about how happy she must’ve been when she found out that he left me, and in the most humiliating way too. He whispers, so low I can barely hear it, “It killed me when you called me Malfoy the other day.”
“What?” I ask, I don’t remember calling him that. I do know what other day he was referring to, the only time I’d talked to him since the wedding. He chuckles, but there’s not a bit of amusement in that laugh, “It reminded me when we were at Hogwarts.”
“You were terrible,” I say, remembering how my first year at Hogwarts, I’d been petrified and he’s called my sister and I mudbloods. I hated him so much, and he hated me more. Until he apologised years later when he found out that we were working in the same department. If only I knew it would’ve gotten me to this moment. I changed my words, “You are terrible.”
My heart stings when I see him looking back at me hurt, but it’s not enough. It’s not enough. He takes in a shaky breath before he says, “Something happened before we walked down the aisle…”
“Yeah, that something is you chickening out and deciding you didn’t want to marry me,” I say, remembering the way he’d talked to me the night before, how he couldn’t be happier, all of it, lies. He shakes his head, and he squeezes my hands in his own, I don’t know why I let him. He explains, “My parents, they didn’t come to dissuade me, they forced me to not marry you.”
“Unless they used an imperio curse-”
“They obliviated me,” he admits, and I suck in a deep breath. The pieces start to find each other in my head, how he ignored me, and wouldn’t look at me. The curse is irreversible. My eyes start to brim with tears again, his parents ruined everything. He lifts up his hand and he cups my face, his thumb tickling my eye as he brushes away the tears before they fall. He shakes his head, “I don’t know why, but they kept my memories in a vial.”
“I found it one night when I was at my father’s study, when I looked into it. Everything dawned on me, the gaps began to fill, why most of my belongings weren’t in the house when they insisted that I'd only lived with them. My whole life was hazy and I finally began to understand what was gone,” he explains, I wanted to ask why didn’t you come find me as soon as you found out?
I sob. Looking at the memories isn’t the same as experiencing the moments, but our love is nothing without the memories, and he doesn’t have those anymore. This is so much worse than before. The love didn’t fade or disappear, it never existed to him anymore. He presses my face to his chest and his palm to my back. The hug was only comforting me, for him, it could feel like hugging a stranger.
“I understand now, I’m sorry for pulling all those pranks on you,” I apologise, this Draco didn’t deserve any of those jokes, this Draco deserved to keep his hair. He strokes my hair with his fingers, it only makes me feel worse. I’m staining his shirt with my tears. I push myself from his chest, forcibly, and I sniffle, “I can’t stay here any longer.”
“Wait…” he says, tightening his grip on my back, climbing up to my waist. I think about how the nostalgic feeling of his fingers on my back must feel alien to him. He says, “I watched all the memories, and can I ask you a question?”
I nod my head, the weight on my chest increasing with every breath. He asks, “why did you stay with me all that time? When I looked at the memories, it seemed like I caused you more harm than comfort. With your sister and your friends, but you were so good to me…”
“You didn’t,” I shake my head frantically, did he feel this way before too? I wipe away my tears, and take a moment to gather my thoughts. I explain, “It was hard at first but only because it had been so new to the both of us. I never thought about leaving you even when we thought. We both grew together and it got easier. I’m sorry you don’t remember it.”
“I want to, I want to…love you again, if you don’t mind doing it all over again?”
a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading, I left the ending open because I honestly didn't know what I'd do in that situation but feel free to share your own opinions. If you think this didn’t completely suck, feel free to check out my other masterlists. You can also support the blog or buy me a coffee here.
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