Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Forgiven	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 18105 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned Harry Potter or the books or contents. This work is purely for my own pleasure, no profit to be made.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Draco smirked as he entered Granger’s office. He glanced down at his robes, checking to make sure they were perfectly in place, and looked up at the witch. His smirk grew as he saw she had not noticed him yet. Always studious, she was sitting at her desk, bent over several parchments, her quill working furiously as she wrote her notes.
“Honestly, Harry,” she said, mistaken the person who had entered the room, “looking at these rulings, I don’t see…” She looked up and her eyes widened. “You’re not Harry.”
“Well spotted,” he praised and chuckled. “What are you working on?”
She sighed and threw her quill on her desk. “I’ve been reviewing your father’s sentencing. These people were really stretching, I think. If I had been part of the committee of his defense, he would have gotten off. These charges are utterly ridiculous and hold absolutely no water.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why weren’t you on his defense committee?”
“I wasn’t allowed. Regardless of whether I thought he was guilty or not, the fact that I was… Well, it’s his Manor where we were sent…” she said, scrunching her eyebrows and unable to finish the thought. “At the time, the Weasleys were still mourning Fred. Actually, they still are, but that’s beside the point. Anyway, I had some things I needed to take care of personally and when I failed on my mission…”
He frowned. “Your mission?” he repeated in question. He had a feeling he knew what she was talking about, and his suspicions were confirmed when she stared at the parchments, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Harry, Ron, and I had a mission that took us to Australia. We…” she sighed and he could see she was holding back her tears. She shook her head and began straightening the papers. “No matter. It was a fiasco and it’s over now.”
Draco approached her desk and touched her arm, stilling it. He looked down at her in concern. “Hermione? Is there something you want to talk about?” he asked softly.
Her honey eyes gazed up at him and he could see the tears threatening to spill. “I…” She pressed her lips together. Hardening her eyes, she looked away. “No. Thank you, Draco, but there’s nothing to talk about. The past is the past and that is where it will stay.”
He could literally feel her pain and it hurt him badly. He wanted to offer up something, anything. Words of encouragement or perhaps admiration for her strength, but he fell short. He remembered what it was like in the days that followed his father’s incarceration. Nothing anyone said had meant anything to him. His father might as well have died for all the help their words had given him. It didn’t take long for Draco to begin hating those people who tried to offer him condolences. It was why he had turned away from his friends.
He decided to change the subject. “I’ve a surprise for you,” he told her. “Do you think you could put this aside for a couple hours and join me?”
She looked up at him and he gave her a smile. “Draco, I’m working on your father’s case.”
He nodded. “I know and for that, I’m eternally grateful, love,” he claimed. “However, even the Minister takes a break from time to time. Join me. I promise you won’t regret it.” As she stood, he eyed her clothes. “What are you wearing under those robes?” he asked.
Thinking he was being lecherous, she gasped, “Draco!”
He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “I only meant to question whether you were wearing Muggle appropriate attire, love.”
She pulled away from him so she could give him a baffled look. “Why would it matter?” she asked.
“Because we’ll be going into Muggle London,” he explained. “Thought I’d try a bit of Muggle cuisine. I read that they eat much of the same things we do, but it would be interesting to see, still. And…”
He was cut off as she reached up and kissed him fiercely on the lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck while his wrapped around her waist. He hadn’t expected this sort of response, but he wasn’t one to turn it down. He deepened the kiss, allowing his tongue to run across her bottom lip before dipping between her teeth to meet her tongue. He didn’t know how long they stood there, tasting, touching, and loving one another. The moment he felt himself wanting to take things further, he stopped. He knew she wanted to keep her virtue and he wanted to help her do just that.
Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. “You don’t know how much I want you right now,” he whispered against her lips.
“I want you, too,” she whispered back, letting her hands fall to rest against his chest.
He opened his eyes. When had he closed them? A smile played on his lips. “I love you, Hermione,” he told her.
His eyes met hers and he waited with abated breath for her response. Her eyes were searching his, studying him, looking for any fallacy in his statement. He knew she would find none, however. He had been working on this plan for far too long. Far too much of his heart, mind, and soul was invested in this moment.
“I love you, too,” she breathed. His heart soared as she finished, “Draco Malfoy.”
(II)(II)
They held hands as they walked through the streets of London. To Hermione’s surprise, he was dressed in a pair of jeans and a green polo with a pair of trainers. Of course, the polo had a small Slytherin crest on the left chest where a pocket would be, but she didn’t make too big a fuss about it.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he tugged her along.
They had eaten at a small Muggle diner. Hermione wished she had remembered to grab a menu from the place. Their salad had been quite delightful.
“King’s Cross,” he answered simply.
She became even more confused. She had asked him several times what he had planned. Thus far he had managed to dodge her questions. It was positively nerve-wracking.
As they entered King’s Cross, he managed to surprise her more as he walked up to the ticket booth, bought two tickets and took her to the platform. “We’re not in Hogwarts anymore,” she told him.
He threw her a smirk. “We’re not going to Hogwarts,” he explained.
“Then where…”
He stopped as he checked the tickets one more time and then looked up at the platform numbers. “This is where we need to get on the train,” he told her and began pulling her towards the train.
“Draco,” she begged.
He paused again and looked at her. “Just trust me, love,” he said, lifting up her hand and kissing the back of it.
“Cool tat, mate,” a Muggle teenage boy piped up suddenly.
The couple turned their attention to the boy. At first, neither had any idea what he was talking about. Glancing down, however, Hermione saw Draco’s exposed arm. Draco seemed to look down at the same time. He glanced back up at the boy. “Uh. Thanks,” he said, though he wrinkled his nose.
The boy couldn’t have been much older than sixteen. His blue hair and black clothes told Hermione that he was eccentric, to say the least. She also could see that he was getting ready to say more. She groaned as she pulled Draco away from the boy. “Let’s go,” she stated.
As they got on the train, Draco looked at her curiously. “What is it?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “He was going to ask you a million questions about your Mark, most of which you cannot answer truthfully,” she explained. “Personally, I’d rather avoid that chapter in our lives.” She glanced back at him and could see the troubled look in his eyes. She gave him a small smirk. “It is cool, though. Once you get past the significance of it.”
“There is no getting past the significance of it,” he grumbled.
They found a bench together and sat down. She looked at him. “You’re right,” she told him. “But one day, we’ll need to… Look. I don’t fault you for what happened. You were young, trying to fit into this world. You made some really bad choices, but…”
“We’re the same age, Hermione,” he said, looking at her. “You didn’t make any bad choices.”
She scoffed. “I pined over Ron Weasley,” she pointed out. “I signed up to take Divination, too.”
He nodded. “Yes, but those aren’t nearly as grievous. While you were busy getting your heart trampled on, I was taking the Dark Mark and plotting to kill our headmaster,” he said.
“Don’t make what I went through sound so insignificant. What you did, you did to protect your family,” she argued. “I, on the other hand, was rather selfish in pursuing someone who clearly wasn’t as interested as I thought.”
He frowned. “You make it sound like I was some sort of hero,” he growled. “Yes, I didn’t want my family to die, but it was just as much for me. The propaganda the Dark Lord fed me had me believing I could be as famous as Potter, even more famous. I would be remembered and feared.”
Hermione looked down at their clasped hands. “Things are different now,” she said with conviction. She glanced up at him. “You’re not the same person you were back then. You’ve changed, become a better person. And… I love you.”
He gave her a soft smile. He wanted so much to believe her, but he didn’t. Sure he had done a few things differently, but he hadn’t truly changed. He was still selfish, conniving. He was a Malfoy. He still lied and manipulated to get what he wanted. Hell, he did things that he had no real desire to do just to achieve his end goal. But he didn’t tell her any of that. He just embraced her. Her head resting against his chest, he kissed the top of her hair and gazed out the window.
Hermione didn’t know how long the train ride had been, but when they made it to the stop Draco wanted, Hermione checked her watch and groaned. It was a good thing she wasn’t planning to return to work today, she thought sarcastically. “So, where is this place?” she asked curiously.
Draco raised an eyebrow. “You’ve asked that question over a dozen times now,” he said as he began looking for a cab to hail. “I didn’t answer you the first time, what makes you think I’ll answer you now?”
“Isn’t persistence something Slytherins value?” she questioned, her eyebrows lifted as he found a cab and waved it down. He really was going all out with the Muggle thing. “You know we could always just Apparate,” she suggested slowly.
He smirked and opened the door for her. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Granger?” he teased. “Aren’t you supposed to be a Gryffindor or something?”
She groaned, but slid into the cab, making room for the blond Pureblood. Once they were both inside, Draco gave the cab driver a slip of paper. The driver took a look at the paper and nodded. “The Warmbloods are looking nice today. Heard they finally got that Thoroughbred under control, too.”
Draco had no clue what the man was talking about, but he pretended to, nodding his head in agreement. Granger looked at him in surprise. “Horses? You’re taking me to an equestrian center?”
The Pureblood frowned. “Those are horse breeds, aren’t they?”
She nodded, glancing at the driver. A smile played on her lips as they drove towards the center. She was a bit angry with him for dragging her out of her office, but at the same time, she was suddenly a bit excited. She remembered horseback riding when she was a girl, but it had been so long… “I’m surprised you thought of this,” she commented, sitting back in her seat and staring out of the window.
Draco shrugged. “I was going to take you to the family estate, but I was told you hated flying and, well, all of our horses are winged,” he told her honestly.
Her head whipped to him and she stared at him in wonderment. “You own winged horses?!” she asked, shocked.
He shrugged again. “We own a few Abraxans and Aethonans, but we can’t really ride those. However, I had thought of taking you out on a Granian, but I wouldn’t…”
“Your estate. Where is that? Wiltshire?” she questioned.
Draco nodded, but quickly added, “I wasn’t planning on taking you inside the Manor, love. I know the memories that place holds for you, even though we redid the entire drawing room.”
Her breath caught in her throat as she thought about what he said. “You…” she really couldn’t find the right words as she gaped at him.
He quirked a brow at her and grinned. “Would you have preferred to see them?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “YES!” she shouted, then seemed to catch herself. She blushed furiously. The driver had swerved slightly, having jumped from her shout and Draco chuckled. “I mean, yes,” she said quietly. She blushed furiously.
“Winged horses?” asked the driver, causing both Draco and Hermione to blanch.
Draco was the first to recover. “They’re mostly jumpers,” he smoothly lied to the cabbie. “When they are on the field, they look as though they are flying, the way they go over the obstacles. It is why we called them ‘winged horses’.”
“Really?” the cabbie asked, looking at Draco from his rearview mirror.
The Pureblood pulled out his wallet and took out a handful of pounds, which he handed to the cabbie. “It’s yours if you take us to Wiltshire and make it quick,” he told the man.
The cabbie took the money and fanned through it. “This is six hundred pounds,” he said, his eyes widening.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a problem?”
Hermione quickly interjected. “My boyfriend comes from a rather wealthy family, sir,” she said, earning a sour look from the Pureblood. She ignored him. “Would you mind bringing us to Wiltshire, please?”
The cabbie shrugged as he pulled into a gas station and turned the car around. “You think it’s smart to brag on how much your boyfriend has, girlie?” the cabbie asked conversationally.
“Why not?” Draco retorted. “I have nothing to worry about. She has nothing to fear. If anyone would try anything, I can simply… make them disappear.” His voice turned cold as his eyes narrowed.
Hermione looked at the Slytherin warily. She knew he didn’t really mean what he said. Right? Then he glanced at her slightly and gave her a quick wink. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding and leaned back in her seat. The rest of the car ride was met with idle talk of nothing in particular, though Hermione did get to learn some about the Malfoy family business, mostly about the vineyards.
Aside from an extensive herbal garden that they used to provide for their own personal use as well as to sell in “private” shops across Great Britain, they also bred and sold the equines Draco was taking her to see. Not to mention other creatures, like their albino peacocks and there was a rare breed of dog they apparently owned that was coveted by others. Of course, Draco and Hermione had begun speaking in code, mostly because the cabbie had a nasty habit of listening to their conversation and even contributing in some cases.
By the time they pulled into the drive of Malfoy Manor, Draco could have sworn he would have bruises in his ribs. Hermione must have jabbed him a thousand times for all the times he almost hexed that cab driver. The cab driver dropped them off at the end of the drive and sped away. Taking out his wand, Draco muttered a few words and Hermione looked at him curiously.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“Put the wards back up,” he replied. “And cast a small Memory Charm so that bloke ‘forgets’ about this place and our conversation.” She made a face and he rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. Not that anyone would have believed him, but can you imagine how he would try to find this place? Muggles are curious about everything, even those things they shouldn’t be curious about.” He sighed and draped an arm around her shoulders. “We can’t have Muggles poking around here, especially if you’re able to get my father out of Azkaban.”
“You’re right,” she agreed. “He doesn’t need that sort of temptation.”
He eyed her funnily, but decided to let the matter drop. “So, we have two choices. We can either Apparate to the stables, or we can walk.”
“How far is it to walk?” she asked.
He sniffed. “Far enough. We wouldn’t get there until dusk and you wouldn’t see much in the way of horses.”
“Apparate it is, then,” she commented.
(III)(III)
The moment they appeared at the stable doors, Draco released Hermione so they could both get their bearings. He sighed and glanced around. “Stubs,” he called.
Right as Hermione was going to ask what he was talking about an elf appeared before them. “Yes, Master Draco, sir?” he asked.
Hermione looked at the elf curiously. He had large blue eyes and wore a pillow case that had grass stains and dirt on it. “How is she doing?” Draco asked the elf, which only peaked Hermione’s curiosity.
“Silver Nymph does well, Master Draco,” the elf replied. “Silver Nymph is out in the pasture now, Would Master Draco like for Stubs to get her?”
The Slytherin nodded. “I would,” he said. “How are the other horses?”
“They is well, sir. Athena’s ‘bout ready to foal. Mister Eugene puts her in the foaling pen and has been keeping an eye on her, sir,” the elf told him.
Draco smile mischievously and glanced at Hermione. Taking her hand, he pulled her further into the stable. “You are going to love this,” he promised, his eyes glinting in the pale light of the stable.
Hermione’s eyes were everywhere as they walked through the barn. Almost every stall had a winged horse inside of it. They were huge and beautiful. “How do you manage to keep them inside?” she asked curiously as she watched one chestnut horse preen its feathers.
Draco shrugged, bringing her to the horse. He waved a hand at the walls. “The stalls are too small for them to stretch out their wings properly,” he explained. “They’ll get taken to the pasture a bit later so they can fly and exercise, but when they are inside, they don’t. They simply can’t.”
Hermione frowned as she continued to watch the horse. It stopped preening and glanced up at the Muggle born. It moved as close to her as it could, stretching its neck and muzzle out to sniff at the Gryffindor.
Draco lifted an eyebrow at them before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a carrot. “Hermione,” he said softly. Straightening up, she glanced at him and he handed her the carrot. “Don’t let her lick you,” he warned as he moved to lean up against the stall wall.
The Muggle born tilted her head curiously at him. “Will she try to?” she asked.
He smirked. “You’re giving her a carrot. Of course she’s going to want to, just don’t let her do it,” he told her. As she continued to look at him questioningly, he shrugged. “She bites.”
Both of her eyebrows rose and she looked back at the winged horse. She held out the carrot to the horse and the horse snorted. The horse nickered as she nodded her head. Sniffing at the air curiously, she moved as close as she could to Hermione. Hermione inched the rest of the way and offered the carrot to the horse, who took it quickly and began munching on it.
Draco led Hermione around to the various horses, introducing them to her and she was even able to pet a few. The stable was vast, much larger than Hermione would have guessed. “So, is this how your family made their Galleons? I wasn’t aware there was much of a market for winged horses,” she commented as she petted a foal.
He chuckled, “No, these are just for fun,” he told her. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eye. “Would you like to see the greenhouses and vineyard?”
Her eyes widened. “What is the family business?” she questioned, unable to stymie her curiosity.
“Mostly grow things,” he said simply. They made it to the end of the stable where Stubs stood with a saddled greyish winged horse. Draco smiled, his face lighting even more. “Hermione, I would like you to meet Silver Nymph.”
She gazed at the animal, impressed by how beautiful she was. The grey of her fur was so light, it might as well have been white. Her muzzle was coal and her brown eyes wide and expressive. Her mane and tail were white and long. It was her wings, however, that impressed Hermione the most. The Muggle born’s hands itched to see if they were really as soft as they looked.
Draco’s smile widened as he moved to stand next to his girlfriend. He startled her when he touched her hand and she looked at him with wide eyes. “Would you like to go for a ride on her?” he suggested. “We don’t have to fly, of course, but we could take her around the grounds. I could show you all that the estate has to offer.”
Her eyes shifted from him to the horse and back again. “Are you sure she’ll be able to carry us both?”
He laughed. “Granians aren’t like Muggle horses. They can carry much more than those Warmbloods that cab driver was talking about, love. Besides, you can’t weigh much and I know I don’t. It’ll be like… like if she were carrying a couple of nifflers.”
She giggled. “You’re either flattering me, yourself, or both,” she said as she allowed him to lead her to the horse.
While Stubs held the reins, Draco helped Hermione up into the saddle before climbing behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and indicated that she should hold on to the pommel of the saddle. Once they were settled, Stubs handed the reins to Draco. “I’ll try to keep her from going too quickly,” the Pureblood promised as he pressed his heels into the mare’s side.
“If you want to take her up into the air, I wouldn’t mind,” she told him. “Just… not too high?”
He smiled into her hair and kissed the back of her head. “Fair enough. Just remember, I have you, love, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She swiveled her head to look back at him and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I love you, Hermione,” he told her.
Butterflies filled her stomach and she couldn’t help the smile plastered on her face. “I love you, too,” she whispered, still surprised by the words coming out of her own mouth.
She didn’t have time to ponder this new circumstance before they were off in the air. He told her he was going to show her the grounds and show her he did. She knew the Malfoys were wealthy, but she had always assumed it was old money. She hadn’t realized just how much they had invested or contributed. Of course, Lucius had never gotten his own hands dirty from soil or cut from hard labor, that’s what hired helped and house elves were for. Hermione was pleased to learn that the Malfoys didn’t rely strictly on house elves. “Some things are better left for humans to do,” Draco had explained as he had taken her around the greenhouses.
The vineyard had been huge, too. The smell of grapes permeated the air. They even had an apple orchard. Draco plucked one apple from atop a tree and handed it to her. She laughed. “No wonder I always caught you with an apple in your hand at school,” she teased, taking a bite from the juicy green fruit.
He raised an eyebrow. “How often did you catch me with an apple?” he asked and she laughed more not answering his question.
And it wasn’t just growing things. He took her to this large warehouse that was, in fact, a large potions lab. Several wizards and witches bustled about the lab making potions. “We send things to St. Mungos and apothecaries all across Britain,” Draco told her. “As well as around the world. Potions, ingredients… We even make cauldrons and potion-making tools.”
“And you make wine,” she pointed out and he nodded. “That’s a lot, Draco. Along with the horse, dog, and peacock breeding…”
“Like I said, the animals are merely for fun and pleasure,” he told her as he safely guided Silver Nymph to the ground outside of the Manor.
The sun was dipping into the horizon as he hopped down from the mare and lifted his arms up to help Hermione down as well. He held her in his arms for a few moments, rubbing his hand up and down her back. When they finally pulled away, she gazed up at him. “How do you do it all?”
He laughed, “Well, we don’t do it on our own,” he said. “You saw our staff and we have accountants and managers that help us oversee everything. Before the war, my father used to take care of all the accounting bits, he personally saw to how much was coming in and going out as well as salaries, raises, and all that other stuff.”
She looked at him. “You don’t do that?” she asked.
He sighed. “I was being taught,” he told her honestly. “During school vacations, Father would keep me in his study for hours on end going over the books. I know some of it, but when the Dark Lord came into our lives, all of that was put on hold. The business itself had started to dwindle and by the time the final battle came, we had no employees and our crops were dying.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “What happened to your employees?”
Draco shrugged. “Most of them returned after the war, some didn’t. I didn’t really keep track. My father was sent to Azkaban and it was all I could do to keep my mother from losing her mind. It’s still an uphill struggle for us, too. She…”
“Draco?” They both turned as they heard the creak of the large doors and saw Narcissa step outside. She sighed as she looked at the door hinges. “We really need to get someone to look at these doors. There’s no reason they should be making such horrendous noise.”
Draco nodded, looking up at his mother. “Yes, Mum. I’ll have a house elf check it.”
Narcissa smiled as she walked down the stair. “Good evening, Hermione,” she greeted, opening her arms to the girl.
“Good evening, Narcissa,” the Muggle born returned as she stepped into the older witch’s embrace and kissed the sides of her cheeks.
Draco smiled as he watched the two witches. He was so happy his mother had been so accepting of his choice, even if she thought it had been her idea. His smile faltered, however, as his mother asked, “Will you be staying for dinner, Hermione?”
Hermione hesitated, casting an almost fearful glance at the manor. Draco caught her look and inwardly frowned. Memories of Hermione’s first and last visit to Malfoy Manor flashed through his mind and he couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of guilt. “Actually, I…” he started, but Hermione cut him off.
“We won’t go into the drawing room, will we?” she asked, looking back at the older witch.
The Pureblood tilted her head and looked at the Muggle born curiously. “Why ever would we go in there? We have dinner in the dining room, not the drawing room,” she pointed out. Her eyes widened in realization. “Is that a Muggle thing?”
Hermione looked at Narcissa in surprise. “What? No… Well, I mean, sometimes, but it’s not something we make a habit of,” she explained. “Though I know some families prefer to eat in front of the telly, but my own family ate in the dining room. I used to go to friends’ houses for playdates and sometimes we would even eat in their bedrooms, but those friends never lasted long. Something always ‘happened’ and I was considered rather odd. I did learn later, at Hogwarts from other Muggle borns like myself, that Muggles do tend to shy away from us, whether they know what we are or not. It can lead to a very lonely childhood.” She was rambling and she knew it, but the thought of reentering that house scared her.
Both Purebloods looked at her. Draco moved closer to her, slipping a hand around her waist. “If you don’t want to, love, we can just go back to London.”
“Oh, I do hope you decide to stay,” the older witch said, looking at the young couple almost desperately. “The elves worked so hard on tonight’s meal and I know Maisey would be more than happy to see you.”
“We don’t have to go anywhere near the drawing room,” Draco explained. “In fact, it’s already been sealed off. The choice is yours, love.”
Hermione glanced up at the Pureblood wizard, thinking over what he said. Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead on his chest. She could feel the pain in her left arm, but she knew it was just her imagination. All the pain, all the memories. She knew she would have to face them sooner or later. Given that she was now dating Draco Malfoy, it was probably better sooner rather than later.
Somehow, she found her Gryffindor courage and grabbed it. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked up at the Pureblood wizard and whispered, “Ok. I’ll… Dinner sounds great.”
- 11
- 12
- 13
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

Forgiven