
Title: Bittersweet Symphony
Characters: Blaise/Hermione/Draco
Rating/Warnings: R, Threesome, some language
Disclaimer: Nothing, HP or other, that you recognize is mine.
Word count: 698
Summary: The notes linger on in her mind, each combining to strike the chords of Hermione's heart. Each movement of the symphony progresses the relationship.
I. Allegro
It started in a quick, bright whirlwind. The parties in the post-Voldemort time obsessed most of their world. Hermione attended some out of social obligation at first, but quickly they became an escape from heavy responsibilities. Especially favourite were Blaise Zabini’s parties—and Blaise Zabini.
The dark-skinned man was suave and polite, intense and attractive. Blaise was attentive, dancing with her often and taking her out in between parties. He soothed her, distracted her, made the past hurts fade into the background. He could make her heart flutter at high tempo.
Always in the background of the parties, Hermione realized as she danced in Blaise’s arms, was Draco Malfoy. Impeccably dressed, despite the fact that she knew his family was destitute after the Death Eater trials.
The night she caught her date, dear Blaise, kissing Draco in a shadowed nook changed everything. That rush of adrenaline, instead of anger, led her to dancing with the blond for the first time.
What a rush of energy marching through her body now.
II. Tranquillo
Lethargy filled her body, pleasant weight her limbs. Here in bed, sandwiched between Blaise and Draco, the world was tranquil and beautiful and perfect. Blaise was the heat and Draco was the cool and the temperature was perfection.
It was the outside world that Hermione hated—the most un-understanding people, her preciously close friends Harry and Ron among them. It grew harder and harder to bear it out there. But for now, for here, things were perfect—soft kisses, intense looks, gasps of pleasure and words of love.
So Hermione threw herself into this relationship, this precious thing she was trying to build. If she could build it strong enough, she would have an escape from the world.
But in the end, it seemed like everything was destined to go wrong.
III. Scherzo
Things started to go crazy. The longer she was around Draco, the more she noticed the effects of his upbringing and of the war. Now destitute, he lived off of Blaise’s good will and money, often what she knew was beyond Blaise’s comfort zone. They might love each other, but flaws were still flaws.
It evolved into the same thing, always sounding slightly different. Draco taking money, Draco getting caught. “I’ll change, I’ll change,” he would promise, again and again. Or, if he were in an argumentative mood, “I can’t help it! It’s who I am! The mould I came out of!”
And in the end, Hermione and Blaise would forgive him, take him back into their arms, their bed, and shower love on him. Trying to change him, Hermione would admit to herself in the darkest parts of the night.
More troublesome was the way Draco would treat her when in front of certain other people. Again and again. It was too much, too much. Sex, violent outburst, soothing and loving moments, then quiet times of thought. Sex and violence, melody and silence.
IV. Rondo
Everything always came full circle, Hermione felt. Somedays it felt like it started back at the wonderful start of their relationship. More often, it was starting to feel like it went back to their school time years. And it wasn’t only conflict with Draco—when Blaise defended him they’d get into it too.
But she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help confronting Draco about his self-destructive problems. It built and built and built, until there was just one more fight.
“Why, Draco? Can’t you just be happy with us?” she yelled.
“This is the only way I know!” Draco shouted. “The only road I know how to travel.”
Her voice gentled, broke. “And I can’t let you take me down it,” she said, tone full of sorrow and pleading. Please, don’t make me give this up, she begged silently, but she knew it was too late.
Variations on a theme, but alas, it was always the same underlying motif in the end. She was lower than she’d ever been, except for how low she’d be if she stayed.
The grand finale, she thought bitterly, of the symphony of the life she’d wanted. Bittersweet kisses and hot and cold tears were all she had left now.
A/N: This was my entry for

Look forward to a post about songfic and the concept of songfic.