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The Dare	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 82904 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Don't own any of the characters. Am not making a profit.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Blaise looked at the Muggle born curiously. “I thought she was with you,” he stated, his brow furrowing in his confusion.

Hermione shook her head. “I haven’t seen her since last night,” she told him.

Hermione watched as Narcissa and Lucius shared troubled looks with one another. “Basal,” Lucius called.

The elf appeared, bowing low. “Yes, Master?”

“Find Miss Greengrass,” the patriarch ordered, “and have her come here.”

The Muggle born had never seen an elf disobey. The elf looked up and nervously glanced around his immediate surroundings. She watched in horror as the elf grabbed a candleholder and began beating himself in the head with it. “Basal, no!” she shouted as she stood up.

The elf froze, gritting his teeth. Luna looked at Hermione curiously. “I didn’t know you could order the Malfoy elves?” she commented, glancing back at the elf who had dropped the candleholder and was looking at Hermione with wide, fearful eyes.

Stunned, the bushy haired witch sat back down. “I… I didn’t know either,” she murmured.

Rolling his eyes, Lucius turned his attention back to the elf. “You know where Miss Greengrass is, don’t you, Basal? Come on. Out with it!” he barked.

“Maisey had just found her, sir,” he said, wringing his hands. “We were about to come and get you, but we didn’t know…”

“Where is she, Basal?” Draco asked, concern in his eyes.

The elf looked hesitant and glanced from Draco to Hermione. The Muggle born stood up and knelt before the elf. “Tell us, please, Basal,” she said, lifting a hand to touch the little elf’s shoulder.

Basal flinched, unused to human contact. “Maisey found her on the grounds,” he said. “Basal doesn’t know what happened yet, but Miss Greengrass is severely injured. Maybe even dead.”

The reaction was instantaneous. Lucius and the other males stood, with the patriarch roaring at the elf, demanding to know what happened and for the girl to be brought to their infirmary. Draco, Theodore, and Blaise were also asking what happened, where she was found, who could have done it, and a thousand other questions that Hermione couldn’t make out. The proclamation had sent a shockwave through the girl’s body and she sat on the floor dazed by it, a hand covering her mouth while another was pressed to her chest. Narcissa looked equally disturbed, but she remained calm. And Luna looked sad, joining Hermione on the floor and rubbing the older witch’s back.

Things happened quickly. Daphne was brought into the Manor, her body cold, wet, and lifeless. Hermione sat beside her, silent tears falling from her eyes as Lucius Flooed St. Mungo’s and then Mr. Greengrass. The boys had gone outside to look at the spot where Daphne had been found to try to find clues as to what happened while Narcissa had gone upstairs with Luna to Draco’s suit to make sure she dressed and was brought home safely.

Mr. Greengrass was a tall, bulky figure with short, blond hair and suspicious brown eyes. He had glared at Hermione when he had seen her next to his daughter. “Did you do this, Mudblood?” he snarled at the girl.

Hermione silently shook her head as the Healers came into the room to check for vitals and transfer Daphne to the hospital. Naturally, Aurors had come and Hermione was asked more questions regarding her involvement with Daphne, though she had no real answers to give them.

It had been determined that Daphne had fallen from the sitting room balcony in Draco’s suit. There were endless interrogations, but the Aurors were left with more questions. Had the girl been pushed? Had she jumped? The natural suspect had been Lucius, but the former Death Eater was able to prove, through several witnesses, that he had spent the night ensconced in his private party, which was where Narcissa had been as well. The boys had been heavily questioned as well and while Blaise admitted to an argument between him and the girl, neither of the boys had any idea what had happened and looked just as shocked and taken aback as Hermione had.

It wasn’t until the evening that the Aurors finally left, promising to return if there were any leads or if they had any more questions. Blaise and Theo departed shortly after to their respective homes and Draco and Hermione returned to his suit to get ready for their own departure.

Hermione sat on the bed, fingering one of the books Lucius had given her. She knew she needed to pack, but she couldn’t get the image of Daphne’s lifeless body out of her mind. She just couldn’t buy into the suggestion Draco had made about the girl tripping or even purposely jumping to her own death. Neither of those ideas made sense to the Muggle born, especially given everything that had been happening. Plus, Daphne had wanted to rebuild her family’s name, restore their honour. Suicide wouldn’t give her that and it just wasn’t an option.

So, what had killed her? Or, rather, whom?

“Have you finished packing?” Draco asked as he entered the room from the bathroom.

The witch gazed at him with envy as he towel dried his hair. It was so unfair in her mind that he, and so many others, had hair that he could just towel dry and it be perfect. “What do you think happened to Daphne?” she questioned for seemingly the hundredth time.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll take that as a no,” he commented. Her stare did not let up, however, and he sighed. “We’ve been over this, princess. I have no idea what happened to her. She fell off the balcony. Did she trip? Was it on purpose? How the hell should I know? No one heard her scream and there was no indication of a struggle according to the investigation.”

She exhaled through her nose. “It doesn’t make any sense,” she told him.

He lifted a brow. “And why not?”

“Because just yesterday she was talking about all the things she had to do to restore the family name,” she said shrewdly. “Not to mention, she had her sister to worry about. Knowing what is going on with Astoria, I highly doubt Daphne would end her own life when her sister needs her now more than ever.”

“So, what do you think happened?” he inquired.

She looked at him, her jaw set. “I think she was murdered,” she replied. Standing up she folded her arms and glared at him. “I’m going to ask you this once, Draco. Did you kill her?” When he opened his mouth, she held up a hand to stop him. “Think long and hard before you answer, because when I find out the truth, and I will find out the truth, your answer now will determine whether you and I have a future together.”

His silver eyes hardened to steel and for the first time in a long time, he wanted to strangle the girl. “No,” he growled. “Why the fuck would you think I would ever…?”

Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out the cigarette butt to hand to him. “This is why,” she said.

He stared at the cigarette for a moment “What the hell does this prove?”

“That you lied to me,” she snapped. “I asked you to stop smoking. You agreed only to turn around and smoke another? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? And I know it’s not the first time you’ve lied. You’ve been lying about Astoria this entire time!”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about? I haven’t lied about Astoria,” he said defensively.

“Yes you have! You’re either lying to your parents about caring for her or you’re lying to your friends in calling her a slag!” she shouted. “Not only that, but you lied to me! You didn’t tell me Astoria had been raped, but instead led me to believe that she was just a silly little girl who can’t keep her legs shut. You’re rude to her, you were rude to Daphne!”

She could see his face turning red in anger, but she didn’t care. The moment she finished, he started up, “Astoria is a silly little girl who can’t keep her legs shut. I didn’t tell you about what happened because it wasn’t my business to tell. And in case you’ve forgotten, everything I’ve said to Daphne or Astoria out of rudeness was in your fucking defence, Granger! I do care about what’s happened to Astoria, but since it’s happened, she has become a slag, which is something even you can’t deny. Did it slip your highly educated mind that I grew up with these girls? That my father had them come here to receive the same education as I through my private tutor? Daphne and I have been friends since we were kids. Astoria’s problems are complicated and there isn’t a damn thing I can do until she opens her fucking mouth and says something.”

Hermione looked away, not focusing on anything as she bit back her tears. Draco saw her anguish and pulled her into his embrace. The moment he did so, she sobbed into his shoulder. They stood like that for a while, with him rubbing circles on her back with the flat of his hand as he buried his face in her hair.

Hermione’s hand clutched at his shirt as she rested her head on his chest. She stared blankly into the open. “No more lies,” she murmured.

“Hm?” he hummed looking down at her.

She met his eyes and repeated more clearly, “No more lies. I don’t care about what’s happened in the past. I don’t even care if you lie to your friends or parents. Just… don’t lie to me, please. Ever again. I couldn’t bear it if you did.”

He cupped her jaw and brought his lips down to hers, kissing her gently. “I won’t lie to you,” he breathed against her lips before kissing her again.

As they broke away, he stared at her for a while, watching as she finished her packing. He wasn’t really looking forward to this trip. His mind drifted to Daphne then. If Granger was right, and she was so very rarely wrong, then who did kill Daphne? It was a question that would plague Draco for a very long time.

(II)(II)

Neither teenager wanted to leave the Manor. Hermione was itching to find out what had happened to Daphne, as was Draco. However, Lucius and Narcissa were both adamant about their departure. “It’s bad form to cancel such plans,” Lucius told them. “Besides, we won’t know anything yet for a while. An investigation could take weeks, even months.”

“We know how much you miss your family, Miss Granger, and you’ve already spent too much time apart from them,” Narcissa added. “I can only imagine the pain your mother is going through by not having you around.”

There wasn’t much more either Draco or Hermione could say. It left Hermione secretly wondering if his parents were hiding something. She frowned as she folded her garments carefully and placed them in her bag. She wanted to trust Draco. A part of her needed to trust him because she had already placed so much of her heart and herself into their relationship.

Once they were ready to go, Hermione thought it would be best if they Apparated to her parents’ home. So they hugged his parents and bid them goodbye – Hermione did her best to ignore the fact that Lucius had lingered a bit longer than what was deemed appropriate when he hugged her. “Write to me, my pet, if you have any questions,” he had whispered into her ear causing her to feel shivers down her spine.

Nodding solemnly to the patriarch with an “I will,” she took Draco by the hand, made sure he had their luggage, and Apparated to an alley outside of her parents’ home. The Grangers lived fairly modest in a normal, Muggle neighbourhood in a normal Muggle home with its white picket fencing and immaculate garden. In fact, no one on the street would know that their daughter was, indeed, a witch.

Hermione was silently thankful that Draco could not do magic at the moment for she was certain he would end up slipping, forgetting that most of the people they would meet, in fact all of them, would be Muggles. She didn’t think he would ever do anything on purpose, despite his previous lies.

They walked up to the door and let themselves in. “Mum? Dad? I’m home,” Hermione called as she pulled off her winter coat and turned to Draco.

She was very happy he had agreed to Muggle clothing, even though he did protest and whine. “But they already know I’m a wizard, don’t they?” had been his defence. She took his coat and hung both up in the closet by the door.

Turning in her spot, she frowned as she realized neither of her parents had answered. “They must be out back,” she mused. She indicated a spot by the stair where he could set their luggage down and led him through the house. “I know it’s not as big as the Manor,” she commented, “and we don’t have servants to cook our meals, but its cosy.”

She gave him a quick tour, showing him the living room, dining room, guest loo, and kitchen before leading him out to the back garden. Her lips split into a wide smile when she saw her mother sitting at the table on the patio talking to a man with a full head of dark, thick hair and a goatee. “Uncle Paul!” she cried out, releasing Draco’s hand to run towards the man.

“Hermione!” the older gentleman laughed as he stood up and caught her in a warm embrace.

She looked up at the man. “When did you get here? How long are you staying?” she asked. Then she turned to her mother who had stood as well and gave her a quick hug.

“Easy on the questions, kitten,” the man joked. “I arrived yesterday. Thought you’d be here, but your mother told me you had some ‘important things’ to take care of. Some tripe about a party and a bloke.” He lifted his brows. “But I thought that she had to be mistaken. My Hermione couldn’t possibly be dating some bloke!”

The Muggle born giggled as she glanced at Draco and waved him over. Wary, the Slytherin approached the trio and the witch quickly threaded an arm through his. “Mum, Uncle Paul, I would like you both to meet Draco Malfoy,” she said, beaming.

The Muggles looked at the boy with wide eyes as Uncle Paul held out his hand. “It’s good to meet you, my boy,” he said with a smile.

Draco shook his hand and gave the man a tight smile. “And you as well,” he agreed, turning to Hermione’s mother. “And it’s really a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Granger. Hermione’s told me much about you, but failed to mention that you were as beautiful as she. Perhaps we could forgive her faux pas?”

The woman giggled and gave Draco a gentle pat on his arm. “What a charmer he is, Hermione!” she commented. “Is this the same boy you used to tell your father and me about? The one that teased you mercilessly?”

The blond stared at the girl curiously as she blushed. “He is,” she admitted a bit sheepishly.

“Oh, you know how those things go, Jean,” Uncle Paul said. “The boy always teases the girl he fancies. No doubt you were trying to buck up the courage to ask this lass out, eh, son? And of course, Hermione being the pretty girl she is probably made you a bit nervous around her, huh? Probably intimidated by that brain of hers.”

“Actually, that’s one of her best parts, isn’t it?” Draco countered. “Besides, I am right behind her in marks, so, she’s not really that intimidating.”

“Oh, ho!” Uncle Paul exclaimed, patting Hermione on her back. “You got yourself a smart one, lass.”

“And handsome,” her mother added. “I’ve never seen a head of hair that shade of blonde before. Is it dyed?”

Draco frowned. “No, it’s not,” he replied, absently running a hand through his hair. “Why would you think I would dye it?”

“Draco,” Hermione hissed with a giggle. She pulled him down towards her so she could say softly, “Hair the shade of yours doesn’t really exist naturally in the Muggle world.” To the Muggles, she explained, “Draco takes after his father with his shade of hair.”

“And his eyes, too?” her mother asked to which Hermione nodded. The woman smiled kindly at the blond Pureblood. “Well, welcome to our home, Draco. I’m sure Hermione can show you to the guest bedroom.”

The wizard started to protest, but Hermione was already pulling him away. “Oh, Hermione, dinner’s at seven, dear,” her mother told her in a singsong voice.

“Thank you,” the Muggle born said as she brought the wizard back into the house.

She led him up to one of the guest bedrooms, levitating their luggage so he wouldn’t have to carry it. Once she was certain he knew where everything was, she left him so he could get settled while she went to her own room to unpack. It was a surreal feeling for her, to put her clothes away in her own room, knowing he was in the room next to her.

She glanced at the double bed and found herself wondering how she had ever slept in it. It would be odd, she knew. Somehow she felt the bed would be colder, emptier. She dumped her suitcase on top of the bed and opened it. As she began taking out her things, her mind wandered back to the Manor.

Draco had assured her that he had nothing to do with Daphne, but… She took a deep breath. Something wasn’t right. Ever since she began sleeping with him, she had felt off. Different. Like she was missing something. And she knew she was.

Frowning, Hermione folded and then refolded the same blouse almost a dozen times before realizing what she was doing. Frustrated, she threw the blouse onto the bed and walked out of her room and down the hall to Draco’s room. She was surprised to find the blond haired wizard sitting on his bed, staring at a note clutched in his hands. She couldn’t read his expression, but his slumped shoulders told her immediately that something was wrong.

She crossed the room to the bed and sat next to him. “Draco?” she whispered. She watched in disbelief as a single tear fell from his eye onto the parchment. “Draco? What’s wrong? What happened?”

Without a word, he handed her the parchment. As she quickly scanned the contents, her breath caught in her throat and she placed a hand over her mouth. “Oh, no!” she said softly. “Draco,” she looked at him, dropping the letter and touching his shoulder, pushing him to look at her. “Draco, we have to go back.”

He frowned. “What good will it do?” he snapped angrily. “He’ll still be in Azkaban.”

“Not if we find out who really did it,” she pointed out.

“An entire team of Aurors can’t figure it out,” he growled. “What makes you think we’ll have any better luck? They’re talking about the Kiss, Granger. My father…” His words faltered and he bowed his head.

She pulled him into an embrace as sobs wracked his thin frame. She had never seen him as torn as he was at this moment. Resting her chin on top of his head, Hermione thought over their options. They sat like that for seemingly hours, but must have only been thirty minutes or so.

She heard the front door open and close and heard her father call out her name, but she did not answer. No. Draco needed her in this moment. And they needed to get back to the Manor, but first, she needed to make sure the boy was calm enough for the trip.

Footsteps could be heard at the stairs and within moments her father was pushing open the bedroom door. “What’s going on here?” he asked, taking in the scene before him.

Draco straightened up and looked away as Hermione turned to the balding, portly man. With a sad smile, she stood. “Daddy,” she greeted as she hugged the man. “I’ve missed you.”

The older man returned her hug. “And I you, princess, but you still haven’t answered my question,” he stated, looking pointedly at Draco who still hadn’t turned their way. “What’s going on? And who is this?”

Finally, Draco took a deep breath and turned to greet the man. Standing up, he inclined his head. “I’m Malfoy, sir. Draco Malfoy,” he said. “Hermione here…”

“Something happened, Daddy,” she interrupted. She glanced out of the room for a moment before stepping into it and shutting the door. Only then, she continued, her voice soft, “Yesterday at the party, a girl had gone missing. This morning, her body was found and now the Aurors have arrested Draco’s father. No one knows what happened, but they do believe she was murdered and, since Mr. Malfoy is the Head of the Manor, they’re trying to hold him responsible.”

Her father’s eyes widened. “You said you would be safe.”

“And we were safe,” she insisted. “There were over a hundred guests at that party. So, any one of them could have…”

“No,” Draco interrupted her, squaring his shoulders and straightening his shirt. “She was in ou… my suite.” He glanced at Hermione. “The last person to see her alive, that we know of was Zabini.”

She frowned. “If you’re suggesting that Blaise…”

“I’m not suggesting anything, princess,” he said, his silver eyes narrowing as he looked at her. “We know Zabini didn’t want to bring her last night. There’s no doubt in my mind that his mother forced him into inviting Daphne, probably in some last ditch effort to lure you.”

Hermione shook her head. “Blaise knows I’m dating you and that I have no interest in him or anyone else,” she pointed out. “And Blaise isn’t interested in me anyway. Not like that.”

He gave her a bored look. “Maybe he doesn’t, yet,” he drawled, having paused before ending his sentence. “You are the brightest witch of our age, though, princess, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that his mother has been working on him. Best friend to the Boy-Who-Lived, War Heroine, smartest girl in school, and looks that would make any wizard desire you. You’re quite the catch, Granger.”

“Who is this Blaise Zabini?” her father asked, drawing their attention to him again.

“He’s a boy at school,” Hermione answered at the same time Draco said, “A mate of mine.” They looked at one another momentarily before Hermione continued, “He’s a friend, Daddy, though you’d never know it by the way Draco continually accuses him of trying to ‘steal me’. You forget, though, Draco. This is my life, my body. I control who I do or do not date and I’ve already told you countless times now that you are the one I wish to be with.” You were my first and I want you to be my last, she thought but did not say.

Draco eyed her. “Then prove it,” he challenged. To her surprise, he turned to her father. “I know we are young, but I am in love with your daughter, Mr. Granger. I would like to ask for her hand in marriage, if you’d allow me.”

Hermione watched, stunned, as her father’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the blond headed boy. “You’re right,” he said finally. “You are young. Hermione has another year and a half until school is finished and then however long it takes her to earn whatever degree you wizards offer for further education. More than that, I don’t even know you, Draco Malfoy. Ask me again in a year’s time when we’ve had ample time to get to know each other. In the meantime, treat my daughter the way you would want your own daughter treated and, know this, she is a princess. She is my princess. She was my princess long before you and she will be my princess long after.”

Draco inclined his head. “Understood, sir,” he said, though he hated giving in to a mere Muggle.

Mr. Granger nodded his head once and turned back to his daughter. “Now, I know you’re anxious to get back, Hermione, and I’ll grant it to you. All I ask is that you wait until after supper. Your mother and I haven’t seen you in over three months and neither of us have really met Draco here. It would be impolite to whisk away so suddenly. Besides, Paul is here and he would find it strange if two teenagers suddenly disappeared.”

“Is Uncle Paul staying?” she asked and he shook his head.

“He’ll stay for dinner, but he has a hotel room in town rented out for the week. He’ll be sorely disappointed that the two of you will have to leave, but if you stay until after dinner, I will drive you to a secluded spot to keep Paul in the dark of how you’re leaving,” Mr. Granger said.

Hermione smiled broadly and wrapped her arms around the man’s neck. “Oh, thank you, Daddy!” she whispered into his neck. “I’ve missed you so much!”

Mr. Granger hugged his daughter tightly. “I’ve missed you, too, sweetie,” he replied as they pulled back from one another. “Now, let’s go see if supper’s ready, shall we? I’m starved.”

(III)(III)

Supper was an interesting affair. Draco remained cordial, giving his roguish smile and charming personality, though he really wanted to hex the lot of them aside from Hermione. What had annoyed him most, however, was the fact that Mr. Granger hadn’t given him permission to wed his daughter. He wanted the Slytherin to wait two more years, if not more!

While Draco understood the logic behind Mr. Granger’s request, he really didn’t see the point. They were going to get married anyway as Draco had already decided she would be his wife. No mere Muggle was going to stand in the way of that decision.

He was also anxious to get home. The idea that his father had been incarcerated over Greengrass was ridiculous and he prayed his mother wasn’t serious about the Kiss. Sure Lucius was a former Death Eater and there were many things in his past that were dubious. Draco had no doubt that his father had murdered people before. But this? This was Daphne Greengrass. Not only was she a Pureblood, but she was the daughter of one of Lucius’s oldest friends.

As he chewed on his spinach, Draco wracked his brain trying to think. The idea that Lucius had killed her was so out of this world idiotic, that it hadn’t even crossed Draco’s mind. But Hermione was right. Someone had to have done it.

The blond did not want to believe either of his friends could be capable of such a thing so when Blaise and Theo popped in his mind, he immediately cast the thought aside. Given how angry Hermione had been, there was no way she could have done it and Lovegood was too pure, too innocent.

“You did what?” he heard Mrs. Granger demand in shock. Her shrill voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he glanced up, looking between mother and daughter.

“You know how I feel about abortion, Mum,” Hermione was insisting and Draco frowned. “Besides, you don’t know what Ron did.”

“It doesn’t matter what Ron did,” Mrs. Granger snapped. “You had no right to lie, Hermione Jean. None whatsoever. You have ruined that poor girl’s life!”

“No more than she ruined mine!” the bushy haired witch hissed.

Mr. Granger shook his head. “What did she ever do to you to cause you to hate her so much?” he asked, putting his drink down.

Hermione huffed. “Ronald had just asked me out not even two days before,” she told them. “And when I went to tell him about how excited I was about the letter Mum had written to me, I walk into his room to find him balls deep inside her! And they never used protection!”

Draco blinked. “Are you talking about the night you caught the Weasel banging Brown?” he asked rather stupidly.

Tears were in Hermione’s eyes at this point as she nodded to the Pureblood. He frowned. “Isn’t that the same night we…?”

“Yes,” the Muggle born said hurriedly. She looked to her parents. “But Draco and I didn’t start dating until after I caught them.”

Paul chuckled. “Vindictive little girl, our Hermione has become, hasn’t she?” he smirked in amusement.

Mrs. Granger rolled her eyes. “Don’t egg her on Paul. That girl has a right to make choices for her body and Hermione took that away by lying to her.”

“Serves the chit right, I say,” Paul defended, pounding his fist on the table. “Those two broke little Hermione’s heart.”

“What is she talking about?” Draco asked, looking curiously at Hermione.

The Muggle born sighed. “I told Lavender that if she tried to abort the baby, she could die in the process. That abortion was far more dangerous than just giving birth.”

Draco’s frown deepened for a moment. “But that’s not true,” he said. “Sure, back when our parents were kids, there were dangers from alleyway abortions and the like, but these days…” His eyes widened as realization hit him and he pointed an accusing finger at her. “You want her to have the baby. You want him to be strapped to her for the rest of his life.” Hermione raised her head as Draco burst out laughing. “Oh, princess, you have been hanging out in Slytherin House for far too long,” he laughed. “What a stupid bint for believing you, too!”

“Well, I am the smartest in our year, aren’t I?” she suggested. “I’ve read all the books on the subject.”

Draco was laughing so hard; a trail of tears fell from one of his eyes. Paul joined in on Draco’s laughter, but her parents were no amused.

“Hermione, you have to tell her the truth,” Mrs. Granger said sternly.

“Mum, they’ve already made wedding plans,” the bushy haired witch said. “She’s been picking out names and his mother is already helping her with planning a baby shower.”

The edges of Draco’s lips hurt from laughing so hard. He wiped the tears from his eyes and took a sip of his cola. “I’m surprised Mrs. Weasley hasn’t figured it out yet,” he commented. “My guess is that Brown hasn’t told her what you said.”

“Of course not,” the Gryffindor replied. “Lavender trusts me, for whatever reason. And like I said, I’m book smart, so she’ll believe what I say, whatever I say, before going to another source.”

He snapped his fingers. “That’s why you agreed to be friends with her. You wanted to make sure she knew you sympathized with her. Oh, Hermione, you’ll never know just how much I love you at this moment,” he sighed, giving her a lazy smile.

She blushed sheepishly and chanced a glance at her parents, both of whom were still fuming. “You can correct this,” Mrs. Granger ordered. “You can and you will. I have never been more ashamed of you, Hermione Jean. You know better. Just because you’re so smart does not give you the right to dictate other people’s lives.”

Hermione sighed. “I can tell her when I get to school after our break,” she suggested.

But Mrs. Granger wasn’t having it. “No,” she said, standing up. “You’ll ring her up right now and tell her.”

“But…” Draco watched as the wheels in Hermione’s mind spun. “She doesn’t have a phone,” she said defensively. “And aside from that, she’s with the Weasleys and you know how loud and rowdy they can be.”

“Fine,” her mother said, in a tone that reminded Draco so much of her daughter that he noticed just how much the two women had in common. “Your father told me you needed to return to the Manor. Something about Draco’s father?” She looked at the blond in question.

Draco gave a single nod of his head. “Yes, Mrs. Granger. There was an incident last night that we did not learn of until this morning. My parents had insisted on the two of us coming here, though we had both wanted to stay in hopes of helping. I received a message from my mother before supper informing me that my father has been taken into custody.”

Mrs. Granger frowned. “They think he had something to do with it?” she asked.

He shrugged. “He’s the Head of the House and it was his party. I’m not sure they have any idea what happened, I sure as hell don’t. My best guess is that they are holding him for further questioning,” he told her as his eyes fell down to his plate. “Forgive me, ma’am, but my mother’s never been alone before. Not truly.” He pushed some spinach around with his fork before looking back up. “I know how much you’ve missed Hermione. I am an only child myself, so I get it. I just…”

“You don’t need to explain it to me, Draco,” the Muggle woman said kindly as she reached out to touch his hand from across the table. “If the tables were reverse, I’ve no doubt your parents would do the same for Hermione. Please, be with your mother. And, if you need Hermione for emotional support, she is free to go with you.” Her eyes snapped to Hermione and narrowed. “But understand this, young lady. This does not excuse your behaviour. You will find a way to contact that girl and your friend, or so help me, I’ll do it myself.”

(IV)(IV)

Not much more was said at supper. Teary goodbyes were given to Uncle Paul with lots of love from Hermione and Mrs. Granger. Then, once he was gone, it was the Grangers’ turn for teary goodbyes. They gave Hermione her gifts, after making her promise she wouldn’t open them until Christmas and surprised Draco by giving him one as well.

“You didn’t have to…” he had started to say, but Mrs. Granger had waived him off. “Oh, pish posh, Draco. You’re dating our daughter and, from the looks of it, you’ll be a part of our lives for a long time to come. There’s nothing wrong with us giving you a gift. I just hope it isn’t too… Muggle?” She had chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Never mind. I’m sure Hermione will be able to show you how to use it well enough. Just don’t forget to wait until Christmas to open it, alright?” He had agreed and he and Hermione had packed their belongings and Mr. Granger drove them to the Apparition point.

When they returned to the Manor, Draco led Hermione back to his suite to allow her to unpack while he checked on his mother. Of course, Hermione realized after he left her that she didn’t need to unpack as the elves had already done it for her. While she waited for his return, she began looking around the suite to see if she could find any clue as to what happened to Daphne.

She found caution tape on the balcony, though that wasn’t cause for alarm. She had seen it earlier when the Aurors had been there, and she was certain it would remain there until they removed it. She kept her hands to herself, careful not to touch anything that may interfere with the investigation.

There was nothing on the balcony, however, and she sighed in frustration. Intent on going back into the Manor, Hermione turned towards the door and that was when she saw it. There, stuck on the door jam, was a bit of yellow hair. The shade of the hair matched Daphne’s for even though both Draco and Luna also had blond hair, as did Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, this sample was a darker shade of blond and had a bit of a curl to it, much like Daphne’s did. Hermione glanced down at the floor and saw scoff marks that made it look like someone had been dragged. Had someone managed to get Daphne on the floor and then drag her to the balcony? Had the Aurors seen this?

“There you are,” came Draco’s voice, startling her.

Hermione jumped and looked up at him. “Wait!” she snapped, stopping him from leaning against the frame. “Don’t do that.”

He frowned. “Don’t do what?” he asked, glancing around him.

“Don’t lean,” she said, pointing to the frame where Daphne’s hair stuck to it. “I think someone may have dragged her out here.” She indicated the marks she had seen. “It’s faint, which makes me think they ‘cleaned up’?”

He followed her gaze, his eyes widening slightly at what she was seeing. “Think the Aurors saw this?” he asked.

Hermione shrugged. “That would explain why they dubbed it a murder and not a suicide, wouldn’t it?” she suggested.

“They told my mother that the autopsy came back for Daphne,” he told her, though he continued to look at the ground, following the marks. “Said she had been killed before she was thrown over. Whomever had done it, had tried to make it seem like she was suicidal.”

“Do they really believe it was your father?” she asked.

He glanced at her. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “That’s what they’re trying to decide. Thankfully, they can only keep him for twenty-four hours, but Mother says they’re trying to look for reasons to keep him longer if they can.”

She shook her head. “They can’t,” she said. “He didn’t do anything. I mean, yeah, it’s his home, but…”

“How do you know he didn’t?” he asked suspiciously. “He is an ex-Death Eater and Daphne was trying to get in the way of us.”

“Do you think he did it?” she shot back, her eyebrows raised.

He sniffed. “Of course not, but that’s because I happen to know my father,” he said confidently. “He’s a lot of things, but he and old Greengrass have been friends since their Hogwarts days and he used to play Santa for us kids when we were younger.”

Her jaw dropped. “Who used to play Santa?”

“My father,” he said simply. “It would piss me off, too, because he would never be around when ‘Santa’ was here.”

Hermione giggled. “I can’t imagine Lucius Malfoy in a Santa costume handing out presents to a bunch of little kids.”

Draco’s face softened for a moment. “I have a photo if you’d like to see?”

Her eyes widened with glee. “Oh, yes! I have to see this!” she breathed as she followed him back into the suite and to a bookshelf that housed several books and a photo album.

He grabbed the album and brought it to a chair by the fireplace where he sat and opened it. She knelt down beside him as he flipped through several pages until he found the one he was looking for. “See?” he said, turning the album slightly and pointing to an old photograph.

Sure enough, there was Lucius dressed in a Santa suit, complete with beard and belly, sitting in an armchair next to a large Christmas tree with a young Draco and several other children. Hermione gave a watery smile as she watched the man hand out presents to the children while Draco seemed to be pouting. She pointed to one boy who was so dark, she almost didn’t recognize him.

“Is that Blaise?” she asked.

Draco nodded. “And there’s Theo,” he said, pointing to another boy, this one with pinkish skin and dark hair. “And there’s the Greengrass sisters. Pansy was there, too.” He frowned as he stared down at the picture. “Though, I don’t know why she wasn’t in this picture. I believe Millicent was there as well, though. And Crabbe and Goyle and Pucey.”

Hermione giggled some more. “How old were you? You look so unhappy.”

“I told you, I wanted Father to be there and he wasn’t,” he repeated. “I do believe we were around 6? 7?”

She smiled lovingly down at the photograph. “You know, I’ve always imagined your father to be some soulless Death Eater hell bent on making everyone around him miserable while building up an empire free of Muggles,” she commented. “But he takes a lot of care when it comes to you, doesn’t he?” She glanced up at him. “He really does love you, huh?”

He gave a solemn nod as he closed the photo album and gently caressed the leather cover. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about my family, Granger. Things even other Purebloods don’t know,” he told her as he glanced at her. “Thing is, of all the people in this world, you are the one I want to share everything with. Every secret. Every miniscule detail. I…” His eyes fell back to the album. “One day, I hope to have photos of you in here. Of us. Of our children.”

In that moment, Hermione wanted the same thing, but there was something still keeping her back. Something that, the more she thought about it, the more she realized something was off. “What happened last night?” she asked after a period of silence.

His grey eyes glanced up at her and he scowled. “How the hell should I know?” he shot back with a sneer. He stood up and placed the album back on the shelf. “What happened last night? You and I went to our bedroom, made love, and fell asleep,” he explained truthfully. “Then when I woke up this morning, you were gone. I went into the sitting room and Blaise informed us that Daphne was gone as well and we all assumed she was with you.”

She shook her head. “Your father asked to meet with me,” she told him. “He… Draco, there’s something you ought to know.” His eyes widened in alarm as she fiddled with her fingers. “I…”

“You’re not pregnant,” he automatically assumed in horror.

She scoffed. “Don’t get your wand in a knot,” she scolded. “No, I’m not pregnant. No, it’s… your father learned something about my heritage.”

He blinked, staring at her for a moment. “You’re a descendent of Merlin,” he said nonchalantly.

Her eyebrows raised. “How did you…?”

“Oh, come off it, Granger,” he drawled as he fell back into his seat. “Do you honestly think my father found out your heritage and didn’t tell me? If anything he was more than happy to tell me about it along with all the warnings typical of finding out your son is dating the catch.”

She frowned. “What did he tell you? And why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, not liking where this was going.

He rolled his eyes. “When was I supposed to tell you? At the party? That would’ve went well, I’m sure.” He sat up and waived his hand in the direction of the door. “You saw how Blaise’s mum acted towards you. We still haven’t figured out how to get her off your scent, and if she found out you were Merlin’s descendent, there isn’t a thing in Heaven or hell that would keep her from doing everything in her power to get her claws on you.”

“Blaise isn’t interested in me that way,” she pointed out.

“How much do you want to bet that his interests will change the moment he learns the truth of your heritage? If he learns the truth?” he questioned. “Remember something, princess, I grew up with this bloke. I love him like a brother, sure, but only an idiot would forget that he is a Slytherin. And any Slytherin worth his salt would be cuing up for you, regardless of the Muggle aspect of your blood.” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised if even Snape tried to gain your eye.”

She made a face of disgust. “Don’t even joke about that,” she said, shaking her head to try to clear her head and swallow back the bile that had begun to creep up her throat.

He sighed. “My point is, princess, you are going to be the most valuable commodity in all of Wizarding Britain,” he said.

“I’m not a commodity!” she hissed. “I’m not some precious artefact that can just be auctioned off to the highest bidder.” Her mind whirled through everything that was being said. She glanced at a spot on the floor as she thought about what he had said and what Mr. Malfoy had said earlier that morning.

Her face slowly began to fall until she finally glanced up and met those stormy grey eyes. “I don’t have much choice, do I?” she asked softly. “I… I’m going to have to get married before word gets out, otherwise, it’s like you said. Too many people will start lining up for a chance, hoping to be with me.”

He smirked. “And here I thought you’d like the attention,” he teased. At the face she gave him, he laughed.

She licked her lips and finally murmured, “Do you love me?”

His laughter died as he stared at her. Reaching forward, he took her hand in his. “I do,” he said, looking into her eyes. “More than anything else in this world, I love you.”

“Do you love me because I’m a descendent of Merlin?” she questioned, glancing at him suspiciously.

He frowned. “No,” he replied. “I love you because you’re the brightest witch of our age. I love you because you’re the most forgiving, kindest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I love you because you’re talented and beautiful and you have a vindictive streak in you that would make you quite the Slytherin, but it also makes you a highly formidable woman.”

“And you’re sure it has nothing to do with my heritage?” she asked again, eying him.

His eyes narrowed in irritation. “Granger, before my father told me about your lineage, I was under the impression that you were little more than a Muggle-born,” he growled. “You may not realize it, your head may have been shoved too far up Potter’s and Weasley’s arses for you to consider it, but I’ve fancied you for years now. I never said anything, of course, because to do so would have been disastrous, especially in that climate. However, the moment the Wizengamot signed the estate to me, I saw my chance. Father couldn’t do a damn thing about who I married or fancied. Weasley’s little stint with the bint actually played right into my hands, didn’t it?”

“You set that up!” she breathed, putting a hand over her mouth in surprise.

His eyebrows raised. “Really, Granger?” he asked with a huff. “And how do you wager I did that? If I recall, Weasley and Brown are both Gryffindors and, even more, the Weasel hates me as much as I hate him.” He paused before continuing, “No. I didn’t set that up, but it did work in my favour, didn’t it? You came to the party that night, something I never thought you’d do. Even more, you…”

“I know,” she cut him off, her cheeks blushing. “I remember that night quite well, thanks.”

He smirked. “Yes, well, I had no idea just how lucky I was. I was just astounded that, somehow, you were giving me that chance that I so desperately wanted. And when I found out you were a virgin, well…”

“I knew it!” she interrupted him again, standing and pointing an accusing finger at him. She glared at him. “I kept telling myself, I kept wanting to believe… But you knew! You knew I was a virgin.” Her eyes widened as she saw the look in his eyes. “There! There it is! I…” she faltered and fell back onto her chair. She could feel her eyes water, though she refused to shed tears. She could feel her blood boiling.

For his part, Draco had sat back at the onslaught of her accusations and, as such, had lost face for a split second. It had been the briefest of looks, but she had caught it. Closing his eyes, he bit his lips together and bowed his head. “Granger, I…” To be honest, he didn’t really know what to say. Finally, he went with what he was good at. He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Look. I’m going to be completely honest with you. Yes. I suspected that you were a virgin in the beginning, but then you nearly sucked me dry and… princess, virgins don’t give blowjobs like that. They just don’t, so I began to doubt that you were one. I even suspected that the Weasel had taken it. It would have explained why you were so upset with him shagging some harlot.” His mind rapidly went through what his father and he had discussed weeks ago. He sighed. “That day, our first time, I genuinely thought you weren’t a virgin and I was devastated because I had all these hopes and dreams of convincing you that I was the better pick than the Weasel. And then it dawned on me. If we were to have sex, then the blame would be on me, wouldn’t it? People would assume I had taken your virginity, especially considering my intentions.”

“You did take my virginity,” she accused.

“Not intentionally,” he told her. “The moment I entered you I knew you had been a virgin and my assumptions about the Weasel had been wrong, mostly. However, there was nothing for it anymore, was there? The deed had been done and…”

“The deed? Draco, we’re talking about my virginity,” she growled. “Something you had taken without even asking. Did you even think to ask me if I was a virgin? No. You just assumed and took matters into your own hands. It wasn’t yours to just take.” The tears threatened to pour from her eyes, but she bit them back. “You’re lucky I had taken a potion that day, otherwise we would probably be in the same situation that Ron and Lavender are in.”

“Actually,” he pointed out, “we wouldn’t’ve. In case it escaped your mind, I wanted to be with you. The idea of our child growing inside you would’ve been icing on the proverbial cake, though I am glad that wasn’t the case. I realize that we are too young to even think about having children and, like you, I am looking forward to being Head Boy next year.”

She shook her head. “You’re a selfish, egotistical, spoiled rotten tosser, Draco Malfoy,” she snarled. “And I am leaving!”

He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not,” he said, looking at her. Only she wasn’t there.

He groaned as he sat up and glanced around the room. “Granger?” he called, catching a glimpse of her hair as she walked out of the door. He took his wand out as he stood and made to follow her.

“Granger!” he hissed as he walked out of the bedroom, but Hermione Granger was nowhere to be found.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. There was no way he was going to let her go that easily.

Author's Note: I am so, so sorry for the delay in updating! As I was writing this chapter, I just found it didn't flow right, so I rewrote the whole chapter! To make matters worse, the internet at my place had gone down. Well, actually, we were kinda piggybacking (don't know who the other people were), but I'm guessing they got a more secured internets because, well... We are trying to work on getting our own net back, but it's hard when we're having so many other bills to pay. Unfortunately, internet kinda takes a backseat to other, more important bills like electricity, rent, and a phone, you know?

Reviews!

Schoolteacher623: No, you're not alone. I find Lucius yummilicous.

Coranassa: Yeah. You'll never see me write Lucius as a monster. I just don't see him that way. Strict? Yes. Conservative? Yes. But a monster? No. Maybe he's killed someone, I don't know. But I don't see him as being cruel to his own family. Even in the books there's a clear indication that he loves his family. And JKR even stated that he was one of the only Death Eaters to know true love and to genuinely love his family.

HP1990: I hope this chapter cleared up some of your misgivings on Hermione's views. And yes, I am American, however, there was a time when abortions were, actually, quite dangerous. Of course, this was back before they were made legal in the States when women had to go into dirty alleys and risk infections and a plethora of other things. Honestly, it's a hell of a lot safer these days and even then, I don't think it was the actual abortions that women were at risk with. (Dirty needles, unwashed knives... Not to mention the things "doctors" used at that time.) Hermione, I feel, would know about these things, too, and would play upon it.

raevynstarr: I'm glad you took a chance, too. :) Hope you keep enjoying the story as it progresses.

Jo, MrsMalfoy: I'm happy you're enjoying the story, too! Like I said, I am sorry it's taken me so long to add this chapter, but you know? Life. Haha

Also, just one more thing. I know there will be an outcry over Hermione's reveal in this chapter, but remember something. She DOES have a vindictive, maybe even to the point of malicious, streak. Key references are Rita Skeeter, Deloris Umbridge, and Marietta Edgecomb. This particular act is a bit worse, to me at least, because it's a bit more personal than the others. Rita, Deloris, and Marietta were just people who got in her way and irritated her. What Ron and Lavender did was personal because they both knew how she felt about Ron and, as this chapter indicates, Hermione truly believed Ron felt the same and was dating her.

Please don't forget to review! I love hearing what you have to say! :) I promise I will try not to wait so long to update next time.
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