Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Joke Book Trap	By : TalisRuadair Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 10791 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Series (1997-2007) and any characters and original locations within the books belong to JK Rowling. I am not making any money from this fiction. Pride and Prejudice belongs to Jane Austen.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter Eleven – Pemberley

Hermione walked up and down the lane as she thought about the hurt she saw in those storm clouds for eyes. When she said those things she had meant to hurt him, but she didn’t think anything she said would. She honestly believed the worst of him. She believed that he pretended to profess his love for her to try and hurt her again. With everyone she lost, how broody Ron was being after the death of Fred, and everything going on she couldn’t let her hope grow to only have him crush it later. She still didn’t know why she was finding the slimy git attractive, or why her heart ached at the idea that she may have actually hurt him. She noticed him walking toward her and she felt similar to Elizabeth wanting to avoid him if possible. She couldn’t look into those eyes knowing how sharp her words were and how deeply they cut him. However, the calling of her character’s name required her to walk toward the gate and him. He handed her a letter, which she quickly took.

Draco hid behind the familiar haughty composed mask perfected by the Malfoy Patriarchs, “I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?”* She searched his eyes and managed to look past the mask. She could tell he was hurt but before she could say anything, he bowed and quickly retreated back into the park.

Hermione was sure with the way he was acting that he just copied Darcy’s letter from the book. However, her hands shook as she opened the letter wondering if he had the courage, after the berating he received from her the night before, to write a letter to her as Draco and not Darcy. She wasn’t sure why, but a part of her desperately hoped that the latter was true. She opened the envelope to find two sheets of paper, with his perfect penmanship written closely together. It was dated from Rosings at 9 o’clock in the evening from the night before.

Hermione,

Don’t be alarmed at receiving this letter, as I will not be repeating the same sentiments I shared previously. It is not my intention to pain you or humble myself, but from our conversation it is quite apparent that some misconceptions exist between the both of us. I wish to take the time to clear those up within the pages of this letter. I may not have written this letter, had my character not been under attack. I apologize for demanding your attention, but I hope to express myself in a way that you can better understand the motivations behind the decisions for which you have chastised me.

You accused me of several offenses last night, and though you were justified in some of your accusations, I fear you were not aware of the details before forming your opinions. I understand that I was a contemptuous prat in school; however I was indoctrinated into my superiority beliefs at a young age. My Pre-Hogwarts education was done at home with tutors; however it was also quite lonely. I would see my mother only during meal times and my father during dinner. I wanted to get his attention and discovered the only way to do so was to make him proud.

However, the summer after our first year of Hogwarts my father was upset with me that my test scores were lower than someone with inferior blood. I tried to use the excuse that you were a favorite with the professors but he didn’t buy it. He was very proud when he discovered that I’d made Seeker on the Slytherin House team. He was so proud that he bought the whole team new Nimbus 2001 brooms. I was elated that I had made him proud for the first time that I couldn’t wait to practice. However, we ended up on the pitch at the same time as the Gryffindor team. My pride was demolished as soon as someone suggested that I had bought my way onto the team. So, I struck back by calling you the unsavory name I’d heard my father use several times when describing muggleborns.

Year after year, I watched as you, Ron, and Harry got all of the attention. In third year, Harry was being protected because of Sirius Black’s escape. In forth year, Harry ended up a Triwizard Champion. I admit that I reacted the way I did because I was jealous. I was jealous of you for being better than me in every subject except maybe potions. Divination was just rubbish, so I’m sure we faired the same in that class. Potter did better than me at Defense Against the Dark Arts and as a seeker. No matter where I looked, I felt that everyone was better than me. I know I projected an air of arrogance and conceit, but really I was hiding all of my insecurities behind it. I didn’t have any true friends, as they were either my friends because of my money or because of the power my father had. I always wished for true friendship like you three had. For once, I wanted to feel the true happiness I saw on your faces time and time again.

I lost my opportunity to make my father proud when he lost to a bunch of fourth and fifth years at the Department of Mysteries. I was angry that more pressure was placed upon me and I took it out on the person I truly blamed for his incarceration. I mean, I couldn’t blame my father because I idealized the man. So, yes it wasn’t right to break Harry’s nose, but I was already feeling the pressure of Voldemort’s mission. How could a sixteen year old boy actually kill the wizard that defeated Grindelwald? I didn’t have much time to pick on you guys that year because I was trying to survive. I sent the necklace out of desperation as Voldemort continued to threaten my mother’s life. He even sent me a lock of her hair in a letter, as a warning that she wasn’t safe. I felt horrible when Katie Bell ended up at St. Mungo’s because of my actions. At the same time, I was too afraid of getting caught and joining my father in Azkaban. I went home for Christmas that year after planting the bottle of mead, which later landed your dear friend Weasley in the Hospital Wing the following spring.

I don’t want you to pity me for what I’m about to tell you. Voldemort was present at my home during the holiday break. I became closely aquatinted with the Cruciatus Curse, however the worst part was watching my mother’s rape at the hands of Crabbe and Goyle Sr. Seeing her so broken on the Ball Room floor, made it impossible for me to ever set foot in that room again. I used to practice the piano in there since I was a small child, but I haven’t played since that night. Just thinking about the piano brings the image of my mother at the hands of those two monsters, while Greyback held me back forcing me to watch. Bellatrix just stood there cackling as she watched her own sister so brutally violated. Upon returning to the school, the only thing I could do was concentrate on fixing that damn vanishing cabinet.

When I finally let those Death Eaters into Hogwarts, which I wasn’t aware of Greyback coming, I stood atop the Astronomy Tower with my wand raised at a sickly looking Dumbledore. He was offering protection for me and my family, but I lost my opportunity when the other Death Eaters arrived on the tower taunting me to “just do it.” I was already lowering my wand when Snape came in and cast the killing curse. I was in shock as I watched the life leave the usually sparkling blue eyes of Dumbledore. He was the first person I ever saw die. I couldn’t even register what I saw because I was being rushed through the halls of Hogwarts by the nape of my neck by Snape. I was soon before Voldemort and being punished for my failure.

The summer before my seventh year was horrible. I was forced to do many things that I never wanted to do, however if I didn’t I knew Voldemort’s wand would be turned on me, and I’d be the one writhing in pain on the floor. Throughout everything I’ve grown to hate that curse with a passion. That fall I returned to Hogwarts to find the place cold and dark. I hated the Carrow brother and sister. Since I was labeled a failed Death Eater, I was usually chosen as a practice dummy for the curses in Dark Arts. So, the boy filled with insecurities became everything he ever feared. I became the lowest thing possible. I had no power, no choices, and I feared for mine and my parents’ lives on a daily basis.

My biggest regret occurred last April. Three people were presented to my family in our manor. My father was whispering in my ear that if I’d identify the individuals then we could win back our favor with the Dark Lord. I stood there looking into the warm doe eyes of the only female present that mattered to me. I don’t know what prevented me from speaking out or utterly denying their identities. I knew it was Potter before the stinging hex wore off, but I was petrified. If Voldemort killed Harry before you all were done doing whatever you were doing, then all hope was lost. The light would surly extinguish and I would be left in the darkness I so desperately wished to escape. Then Bellatrix saw that sword and went crazy. I just stood there as she casted the torture curse on you. I watched as your eyes pleaded for my help, but I just stood there frozen in shock like the true coward you have painted me as. I wish I had enough courage to stop her from carving that word into your arm, but I just stood there with a blank face. I checked out and shut down watching your torture. The nightmares came later, but in that moment I could barely think or look away from the tears forming in your eyes. The blood that fell down your arm and stained our worn rug was just as red as my own.

I was so excited when you all escaped, even though Harry took off with my wand. After Voldemort showed up and discovered we’d let you escape, we were all kept under house arrest. I wasn’t even allowed to return to Hogwarts. I was forced to watch one horror after another, but I was just as unresponsive as before. My father’s wand was taken that summer, my wand was gone, and my mother gave me hers to use. She became defenseless by letting me borrow her wand. However, it felt so wrong and didn’t work properly for me. It was tiring trying to use it and my father’s desperate words repeated in my mind. The three of you broke into Gringotts and Voldemort knew what was taken and he wasn’t happy. The remaining guards and Goblins were murdered on our Drawing room floor. He strode through the dead bodies as if he didn’t even see them there. My mother hugged me tightly, as I saw the horror through the same blank eyes.

Then the day of the battle came because Potter was spotted in Hogsmeade. I used my mother’s wand to apparate into Hogwarts and waited outside of the Room of Requirement with Crabbe and Goyle. I don’t know why I chose them, maybe it was because they were the closest things to friends I had since first year. We followed you into the Room of Hidden things and Crabbe stopped listening to me because he perceived I no longer had any power. It hurt knowing that he was only a friend because of my family’s standing with the Dark Lord. You know what happened in that room after he released the Fiendfyre. You and Harry could’ve left us to die, but instead you save Goyle and me from the flames. However, my mother’s wand was lost. I was left wandless and not well liked by the Death Eaters as I torture many of them at Voldemort’s orders. You guys saved me a second time that day, and then Harry saved me a third time during my trial.

It was a month later that the nightmares started. At first I didn’t understand why I was having them, however I quickly realized it was because of all the things I’d done and all the things I saw. Fred’s face flashed in my mind several times. Though I didn’t witness his death by Bellatrix’s hand, I did see him lying dead after the deed was done. Seeing someone who was always so jovial, without that mischievous glimmer in his brown eyes caused everything to hit home. My family had survived a war when we were forced to follow the wrong side. Many members of the light were gone and we less deserving people still had our lives. Maybe not our sanity, but we still had our lives. My cousin’s son was left an orphan. Teddy will never know the love of his mother or the gentile smile of his father. Why is it that the loving parents are the ones who die when the child is still young and my cold hearted father is still around?

When I returned to reattempt my seventh year, I discovered many female members of my house desired me as a husband. Those who chase after me and bat their eyes are not anyone I’d ever want to marry. Many of them still hold true to the blood purity nonsense even after we lost so much magical blood during the war. I guess my views on blood status have changed, as I believe that there are already so few of us. Why should pureblood families continue to inbreed to potentially keep the blood pure? I know you will not believe a word I’ve written in this letter unless I find a way to prove to you by my actions that I have changed. However, I do hope my words help you better understand me.

Draco

Hermione read the whole letter two times before she made it back to her room. She didn’t know what she expected the letter to contain, but she clearly didn’t expect a confession upon that scale from her former torturer. He admitted to feeling grief at seeing the dead body of Fred. Then she remembered what a wreck he really was during the Battle of Hogwarts. She saw him giving out cries of anguish outside of the Room of Requirement with Goyle because of Crabbe’s death. To think his sorrow was still there, even though Crabbe’s father was responsible for such horrible acts against his mother. If he was willing to share with her things that he may not have admitted to another living soul, then was it possible that his feelings for her were genuine? Could she actually allow her own feelings to develop? Would it be safe to give her large Gryffindor heart to a Slytherin? A broken one that only wishes to be loved for who he is rather than what he has. Could being Draco Malfoy really be that challenging?

Hermione allowed time to pass as she continued to read the letter over and over again until she had every word of it committed to her memory. It wasn’t too long after returning to Longbourn with Jane that Lavender succeeded in talking Molly and Arthur into allowing her to travel to Brighton with Colonel Forester and his wife. Hermione knew what was to follow from that decision but she figured it would be a perfect test for Draco. After Lavender left and Parvarti went around the house complaining that she couldn’t go, Hermione received notification from her mother that they wouldn’t be able to travel farther north than as Mr. Gardner’s vacation was delayed by two weeks due to business. Hermione knew what visiting Derbyshire meant and part of her secretly wanted to see Draco again. She wanted to see how he was doing since he left her presence. She wanted to know so many more things than the ones he shared. Part of her realized he probably saved her some of the details, as he felt it best not to delve too deep into a past he adamantly wished to forget.

Hermione had to hold back her tears once more when she spotted her parents on that warm July morning when they arrived. She made a vow in that moment to spend all summer searching for her parents if the Order still hadn’t located them and she would remove the memory charm. She was apprehensive as to how they would respond when it was removed, but she hoped they’d forgive her for doing what she thought was necessary to protect them. She sat in the carriage with both of her parents as they made their journey to Derbyshire where she would visit Mr. Darcy’s home. She couldn’t help but wonder and hope her assumption wasn’t correct, that Pemberley would resemble Malfoy Manor too closely. She also wondered who she’d see as Georgiana Darcy. She had no idea who she could be as Malfoy had no sister. She would’ve thought it was Luna; however she was already portraying the part of her sister Mary.

When the carriage stopped in front of the elegant manor grounds, Hermione smiled when she noticed the albino peacocks strutting around in some of the gardens. She looked up on the house on the hill and realized that though the building resembled the manor in architecture and style, the darkness she’d seen during the war was missing. It was as if the outside of the manor had been whitewashed or the stones were pressure washed or sand blasted. Perhaps it was the time difference and the manor looked the way it did during the era. However, she happily followed her parents for a tour of the home. Secretly, she was wishing nothing was recognizable.

They waited for the housekeeper in the main hall. Hermione didn’t have the opportunity to view the entrance hall the last time she’d visited the manor, as she was hurriedly rushed through the hallways to the parlor by the disgusting smelling Greyback who had her by the nape of her neck. She gazed around wondering how different the version of Malfoy Manor she was experiencing in the book varied from its current state in her reality. It was far lighter than she expected of a family whose ancestors were so intertwined in the Dark Arts that Lucius didn’t even hesitate before becoming a Death Eater in his youth. It was rumored that Abraxas was more than happy when he discovered his son’s dark mark. Hermione wasn’t sure how true that was but she was drawn to the portraits in the room. She was shocked to discover they were moving like the ones from the Wizarding world. Above the arched doorway at the end of the hall, a large portrait of a long haired blond man stood. He had similar features to Lucius but his eyes were blue instead of gray. He wore long gilded dress robes with intricate embroidery of displaying male peacocks in their glory of greens, blues, and gold. She stared up at him and the portrait spoke, which reminded her of the headmaster portraits at Hogwarts. She looked around the hall and noticed that her mother and father were frozen in place as if time stopped within the book.

“Ms. Granger, we know what has brought you to this ancient ancestral home of the Bad Faith. I know you probably think that I am Abraxas Malfoy, but you are mistaken. I am Brutus Malfoy and this manor resembles the way it looked during the Regency Era before the curse. Of course we got the name Bad Faith because of the many oaths my ancestors broke during their accumulation of wealth. This curse is one that I fear affects the young Draco. There’s a reason why he’s seen so much darkness in his life.”

He paused for a few moments as if he was waiting for the information to be processed by the curly haired witch, “My grandson followed my idiotic beliefs of superiority to an extreme before the rise of the Dark Lord. Of course things become much clearer in death; I fear my ideas were constructed purely out of fear. You have to understand the century I came from was dangerous. If muggles discovered you were a Witch or Wizard, you were likely to find yourself tied to a stake and burned. Anyway, enough with my poor decisions when I was living, as I was saying my Grandson Marcus killed several witches and wizards who consorted with muggles. One of the witches he killed was a powerful sorceress who was also a great seer. She could see where his anti-muggle and pure-blood supremacy would lead future generations of the Malfoy family. She warned Marcus before he cast the killing curse that if he were to take her life, his family would fall to darkness and someday bowed down to someone who was the product of a Muggle and a Witch. He didn’t heed the warning and that’s what put our manor under so much darkness that and the buildup of dark magic.”

Hermione shook her head not believing she was having a conversation with one of Malfoy’s ancestors within a muggle novel created by Fred and George. She underestimated their talent until that point. She shook her head of the thought and furrowed her brow, “I’m sorry Mr. Malfoy, but I don’t understand how a warning of the future constitutes a curse.”

His light eyebrows perked up, “You are quite astute perhaps there is hope for Draco, after all. You see she performed a powerful, ancient, wandless, magic that required sacrifice. She could’ve escaped his wand but instead she chose to use her death to make him pay. For one, she made it so that a Malfoy could only produce one male heir. We have not had more than one child since, which prevents the family line from growing. The second thing the curse did was make sure that when a Malfoy man loved someone, he would experience nothing but torment. Think about the way Lucius looked at the end of the war. By that point the curse had fully attacked him, leaving him a shell of a person, and he lost all respect from both his wife and his son.”

“Did this woman ever say how the curse could be broken?”

“You see, the woman was Hector Dagworth-Granger’s daughter, Helena. He also had a son who wasn’t home at the time of Marcus’ visit. She must’ve seen that one of her brother’s son’s would be a squib and that eventually two squib descendants from two very strong magical family lines would come together. From that union, a very unique and talented muggle-born witch would arrive in the world. She knew that the limited pure-blood views of the Malfoy’s would limit the opportunity for the curse to be broken. The only way the darkness and suffering can be lifted from the Malfoy males is for one to fall in love with someone of two worlds from Helena’s line.”

Hermione furrowed her brow, “So, you’re saying that the only way to spare Draco a lifetime of misery, if he fell in love with some pureblood like Pansy or one of the Greengrass sisters, is for him to fall in love with me because I’m a muggle-born witch from Helena’s family line? I would really like to help, but I’m sure that Draco’s incapable of falling in love with me.”

A smile lit up the aristocratic features, and he let out a hardy chuckle, “For the Brightest Witch of her Age, you can easily overlook important details. Either that or you’re just in complete denial. My descendant is in the same boat as Mr. Darcy. He has fallen for you, but he doesn’t believe that you could ever reciprocate his feelings. The curse attacked him at a young age because of the love he had for his mother. You’re his only hope, Ms. Granger.”

She went to say something but the portrait stopped moving and time started again within the book. She couldn’t help but shake the feeling that something really weird was going on. She had a lot more to consider than she first thought possible. The elderly and distinguished housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, arrived in the guise of Madam Pomfrey. They followed her through the manor and she noticed it wasn’t anything like the one she’d visited in her reality. Hermione robotically went through the tour and the conversations about Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Reynolds hope that her master would spend more time at Pemberley if he married.

They soon left the home and when she looked back she stood within twenty yards of Draco. She couldn’t help but think about the conversation she had with the portrait of one of his oldest ancestors. His letter played again in her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she could truly relieve him of so much pain by just opening up her heart to him. They walked around the park, they conversed, and Draco invited her father to go fishing. At the end of the walk Draco played his part and never deviated as he asked if he could introduce his sister. Hermione of course accepted and still wondered in the back of her mind, who Georgiana could be. However, the encounter ended far too quickly and soon they were back in the carriage and her mother was commenting on his wonderful manners.

As perfect to his book character, Draco presented his sister to her the morning after their arrival at Lambton. She made sure everything was perfect and upon their arrival she was shocked to see none other than Gabrielle Delacour playing the role of Georgiana. After a few moments of pause, she quickly determined she would be the best fit. Thinking about the other’s who might’ve played her part; Gabrielle was the closest in appearance to Draco. There existed almost the perfect age difference between the two; however she was chronologically younger than the sixteen year old character she was portraying. She did find it odd to see the outgoing quarter Veela, playing a shy and overly quiet girl. If Draco hadn’t invaded her story then perhaps she would’ve realized that both Darcy siblings had timid and introverted demeanors.

When the two left, she still had much to think about, as she still had yet to process what Brutus had shared with her. Was Draco really falling in love with her and could she really be his only salvation? The more she turned the idea around in her mind; she found more and more logical truths in what the portrait had shared. She couldn’t help but wonder if Draco knew the truth behind his family’s fall from grace. She spent the rest of her day going over all of her childhood memories looking for any support for Draco’s growing affection over the years. She couldn’t find anything that she thought would betray his feelings. His perfect mask was always in place, which included a sneer whenever looking at a member of Gryffindor. She rubbed her temple trying to figure out what her next step would be. She knew they wouldn’t have much time before they were separated once more.

She also realized that if his feelings were real, he wouldn’t be likely to show them again. She had hurt him more than she thought possible, but he hid it well. Did he really believe he was so unworthy of her love that he accepted her tactless refusal? Her heart ached as she felt her growing affection and realized she’d missed her opportunity. With the way Draco was raised, he was quite unlikely to share his true feelings with anyone. The one time he decided to be brave, she belittled him for it. She refused to believe his sincerity and shred any integrity he may have had. She was heartless, cruel, and mistreated him. How could she make it up to him when she so blatantly crushed his heart, which he may’ve put out on the line for the first time in his life? How could she have been so cold hearted?**

A/N: I started typing Draco’s letter and I fear that it turned out longer than I first anticipated. I hope that no one is upset that I decided to skip past her leaving Rosings, picking up Jane in London, meeting Wickham in Meryton, and Parvarti and Lavender crying about the military leaving. I just wanted to move along, as none of that would’ve changed from the original story as Hermione would’ve just gone along with the scripting. The changes occur when she’s forced to face Draco. Also, I’m not sure where that curse thing came in, but apparently that portrait had something to say.

*Is paraphrased from chapter thirty-five of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice(1813), as well as the scene was lifted from that chapter.

**This scene is a modified one from chapter Fourty-three for Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (1813).
- 10
- 11
- 12
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Joke Book Trap