Rowan did not lay eyes on Draco Malfoy for another seven years.

Of course, she had seen images of him in the Daily Prophet, read stories about all of the hardwork he was putting in at the Ministry. She hardly kept up to date with wizarding politics, especially when it involved staring at her ex-boyfriends face so often, but from what she knew, he was quickly making his way up the ranks— soon to be the youngest Deputy Minister of Magic the Wizarding World had ever seen.

Rowan tried to convince herself that she was happy for him. After all, it seemed rather pathetic to continue being in love with the boyfriend she had at eighteen-years-old. She told herself that she had moved on from all of the trauma the events had brought to her. Of course she didn't think about how many girls Draco had cheated on her with after he'd discovered her secret! Of course she didn't spend countless nights awake wondering when he had done it, if he had thought of her once, or if those girls had been laughing at her for being so fucking stupid the whole time.

Most of all, of course Rowan didn't feel an endless pit of guilt at the bottom of her stomach every time she thought of the way things had ended with Draco Malfoy. There would be other men that would make her feel as seen as Draco made her feel, she was sure of it. Other men would see all of her flaws and still love her like he once did, surely.

Rowan blew a kiss to Adrian Pucey in the stands and attempted to remind herself this.

She flew down to the grass, smiling as the crowd roared above her. Chants she couldn't quite make out rattled the pitch, and fireworks burst into the evening sky, dark blue and silver for the Montrose Magpies. One of her teammates knocked shoulders with her as they headed for the pitch exit, and another squeezed her into a side hug, congratulatory words being spread between the team.

Flashes and yells bombarded her senses as soon as she stepped off the pitch and into the narrow corridor that led into the arena. Rowan forced her usual smile for the cameras, but ignored the reporters stood around with their notepads and quills, feeling her body ache as she handed her broom to the personal assistant that made sure she was comfortable before and after games.

"Apologies," Rowan spoke to one man in particular that was trying to shove a microphone in her face. "I'm afraid I'm awfully exhausted after such a long game. Please forgive me, I must go and lie down for a bit."

Some reporters laughed. Rowan didn't think it was particularly funny, but she'd learned that being an athlete came with fame, and fame seemed to come with people who would agree with anything you had to say to be in for a chance of being in the limelight for even a minute.

"Actually, Miss Yaxley," Appletree said, hurrying to keep up with her long strides, juggling both Rowan's broom and a water bottle with the Quidditch player's initials on it. "The Minister of Magic attended today's game in the Ministry box. Minister Lacework wishes to meet you."

Rowan nearly groaned out loud, but managed to stick to a mere huff from the nose. She finished pulling their hairbands from her braids and ran her fingers through the dark curls, so thankful to loosen the tight ache around her roots.

"Okay, okay," she said, and pulled off her gloves. "He's not wanting to eat with me, is he?"

It wasn't uncommon for wizarding celebrities to want to meet with Quidditch players after the game— often times just to snap a photo for the Daily Prophet if she'd had a particualry good game. Rowan found this especially true to her. Lots still wanted to congratulate her on the record she broke all the way back in her last year of Hogwarts. Many of them were former Slytherins who had also been on the school team once upon a time.

"No, don't worry, Miss Yaxley," Appletree said, "The Minister of Magic cannot stay for long. As you know, he's an avid Magpies fan and—"

"Yes, yes," Rowan sighed, "I remember. Thank you, Appletree. Feel free to take the rest of the evening off. Just leave my broom in my room, if that's okay."

"Okay, Miss Yaxley," the younger lady nodded as Rowan paused outside of the Ministry box's door. "Thank you. Enjoy your evening."

"Thanks. You too."

Rowan watched her personal assistant scutter away. She ran her hands through her hair yet again and glanced at herself in the reflection of a glass window. She decided she looked okay if the Minister of Magic was waiting inside with a member of the press.

Rowan took a deep breath and opened the door.

It was full of men, all dressed in either suits or traditional wizarding dress robes. Rowan realised Minister Lacework had brought half of his cabinet with him. She put on her best grin as people turned to face her, immediate fire of compliments and congratulations raining down on her.

Minister Lacework was shaking her hand when she realised that Draco Malfoy was here, too.

She wondered how it was possible for somebody to look exactly the same and yet completely different all at once. Draco's hair was the same platinum white that stuck out among every other wizard, his skin icy pale, his suit all black. Yet, his shoulders had broadened, his bones sharper, his silver eyes more piercing.

Rowan was at loss for words for a moment, her lips parted, her eyes focused on him, and then she managed to peel her attention away, snapping back to Minister Lacework who had only just released her hands, but was still talking to her about her performance on the pitch.

"- just so extraordinary. I don't believe I've seen a player like you in all my time," Minister Lacework said, "Nevermind such a young lady!"

Rowan pursed her lips into a thin smile. "Thank you, Minister. That means a lot to me. Thank you for coming to watch the Magpies play."

"Oh, I try to never miss a game— as you know!" He said, "I thought I would bring some of the gentlemen from work for this one. A lot of us are Magpie fans, you see."

"I'm glad to see our government have some sort of common sense," Rowan joked, and there was howls of laughter that sounded nothing but arrogant and rich.

"I'm sure you'll remember young Draco over here," Minister Lacework turned his back on her to reach over and clamp his hand on Draco's shoulder, dragging him towards the brunette woman. "He says you were on the same Quidditch team at school."

"We were," Rowan said, and sent him a small nod. "It's nice to see you again, Malfoy."

"Likewise," Draco replied, and then, as if all had been forgotten, he stuck out of his hand for her to shake.

Rowan supposed he was just as media trained as she was, considering he was so high up in the Ministry. They both knew how they were supposed to talk with people around, both understood why it was so important to uphold a certain type of image.

Rowan swallowed, feeling like she had been staring at his hand for hours before she actually reached out and took it. His hand dwarfed hers, cold and firm as always, shaking it politely. Rowan felt her heart drop when he took his hand away.

"I'll let the two of you catch up, one moment," the Minister of Magic said, and Rowan didn't know whether to say she was leaving now anyway or not.

Being in Draco's presence felt odd. He smelled the same and he still felt so incredibly, painfully familiar.

"Congratulations on your win," Draco said.

Rowan raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Thank you. That means a lot."

He released a breath through his nose. "Is that your rehearsed line?"

Rowan nearly rolled her eyes at him and felt her cheeks go slightly warm. "I suppose it is. There's only so many ways you can reply to compliments."

"Humble."

She laughed. "Rich coming from you."

Draco felt the corner of his lips dare to tug upwards. "You've done very well for yourself. Are you still living with Parkinson?"

"Unfortunately not," Rowan replied, "Pans met a lovely lady so I felt it was right I moved out. I have my own place in London."

Draco hummed. "I see. Not settling down with Pucey just yet, then?"

Rowan's brows furrowed. So perhaps he did read the tabloids that liked to keep up to date with her love life. She felt something warm in her chest for a moment. She couldn't detect the emotion on his face when he had asked her the question, though.

"I haven't been keeping tabs," Draco disclaimed, "It's rather hard not to know what you're up to if you follow Quidditch. Especially the Magpies."

"Ah," Rowan said, "Yes, the papers can be quite... invasive. They do like to make stories out of my life quite often. I'm sure you know what that's like... being the Deputy Minister and all of that."

"Completely," Draco agreed, "I also know how easy it can be to avoid the cameras. I have colleagues that like to phone up the press— let them know when they're leaving restaurants or the Ministry. I find I can always tell when I see those sorts of images on the front page of the Daily Prophet— which ones are real and which ones are fake."

Rowan nearly glared at him. "And what are you implying, Malfoy?"

"Just quite convenient that you are never papped alone these days, that is all," Draco shrugged, and then lowered his voice. "And I find it quite... humorous that Pucey is promoting the launch of his new broomstick model at the same time the two of you have started this relationship."

Rowan raised a brow and couldn't help but grin, laughing a little bit. "It certainly sounds as though you keep tabs, Malfoy."

Draco shrugged. "It is my job to keep up to date with the news."

"So you know how PR relationships work," Rowan replied and watched the slight shock ripple his features, as if he wasn't convinced she was going to admit it. "I think a lot of people can tell it's not real."

"Your face gives it away half of the time," Draco laughed a little. "You never could hide when you were irritated."

Rowan smiled slightly. "Guilty."

"It's a bit ironic, isn't it?"

Rowan felt that familiar stab she always got when she remembered what she had done. It was like the night of the graduation ball always came flooding back, smacking and hitting and kicking her, dragging her down, forcing her to remember what she had done and how Draco had retaliated. She saw Greengrass' smirk the morning afterwards when Rowan crept down to the common room with swollen eyes, she remembered the way Pansy had sobbed when Rowan had told her that Draco had fucked Nancy.

She swallowed and then dabbed her lips with her tongue. "I— I suppose, in a way," Rowan ran a hand through her hair. "I mean, I suppose this time it is more... of a mutual agreement that it is completely fake. With you it was... well, it was real to me."

Draco gulped too, his Adam's apple bobbing, as if he wasn't expecting her to say that. "Mhm." He almost looked as though he regretted bringing it back up.

"I have nothing to lose now, Malfoy," Rowan said sincerely, her voice low. "It was real. I loved you."

Draco pursed his lips. "Okay, Yax—"

She grabbed his hands. "You are capable of it." Rowan watched his eyes widen. "Of loving and being loved. I never should have done that to you, considering how you had... a fear of it. I was horrible, I'll admit that. But if I learned anything, Malfoy, it was that you are loveable, and you can love. It wasn't you. It was me. I was the one who ruined everything."

Draco looked thoroughly uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his platinum hair. "I—" he swallowed. "Thanks, Yaxley. I suppose."

The door opened and Pucey immediately began to greet some of his friends from the Ministry. Rowan cringed and released a long sigh.

"Back to work," she said, "It was nice to catch up with you. Pucey probably wants to take some photos of us walking somewhere or a-fucking-nother."

Draco grasped her wrist before she could turn and leave. She glanced down at his hand and then up at him.

"You are too, you know," Draco said, "Capable of all of that romance stuff. Don't punish yourself because of something stupid you did when you were a teenager."

"It's hard," Rowan pursed her lips. "When the fallout hurt a lot of people."

"I forgive you," Draco said, "If that's any consolation."

Rowan put her hand on top of his and squeezed. "Thank you," she whispered.

"And I am sorry, for what I did afterwards. Cheating on you, hooking up with Parkinson's girlfriend," Draco said, "Two wrongs don't make a right, or whatever rubbish it is that they say."

Rowan gave him a faint smile. "I forgive you, too."

Draco squeezed her hand. "See you later, Yaxley."

"Goodbye, Malfoy."

The tall blond man headed back towards some of his own friends from work. Rowan took a deep breath and turned to head over the Pucey, stilling when she realised her closed fist had something inside of it. Rowan opened it and peered down at a small ripped piece of parchment. There was an address on it and some words.

8pm tomorrow. let me show you how

deserving you are. no stupid pranks

this time round.

DM

....

finished!! i hope you enjoyed this fic :) 

completed 27.10.24 

dyiansobrien