“If you could have anything, what would it be?” he asked her as he put his head on her lap. They were lying in bed, exhausted from their days. “And I don’t mean trinkets and baubles. I mean if you could change anything, if you could make anything the way you want, what would it be?”
She sighed and ran her hand through his hair. “It’s stupid, you’ll laugh at me.”
“Hermione, I will most definitely not laugh at you,” he promised. “Unless you want something like for the Weasel and I to snog. That will make me laugh to insanity and then probably strangle you in your sleep.”
She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. “My desires are not that vulgar, Draco Malfoy.”
“What is it? Come on, tell me, it can’t be that bad.”
“Well okay but you can’t laugh at me,” she said. “Remember the Yule Ball? I wish I could change it so that you were my date, and not Viktor Krum.”
“I thought you had fun with him,” Draco narrowed his eyes. Like Ron, Draco had a hard time thinking about Krum’s hands on his wife. He had admitted it to her recently, when he told her he had begun to realize his feelings for her that year, when he saw her in that dress, when he stopped seeing her as Potter’s annoying know-it-all sidekick and thought of her as her own person.
“I did, but I don’t know. I wish you could have taken me, or that it could have been possible then.”
“Why would I laugh at you?”
“Well I’m a war heroine. I should be wishing that Voldemort never existed or that no one had died. And here I am conflicted about a stupid dance.”
“It’s not wrong for you to want something for yourself, love.”
“I know, but I still feel guilty. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not like I can go back anyway. I broke all the time-turners,” she smiled at the memory from so long ago.
He sat up, a smirk lighting up his face. “Did I ever tell you how my great great great great great great grandfather hexed the guy who invented time-turners because he was a muggleborn and took his whole supply?”