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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
- 20
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- 22
Hermione’s dreams confused and terrified her. She woke up in a cold sweat, but could hardly remember what she was dreaming about. She had seen Draco and Ron in her dreams, as well as Lucius. She was never one to put much stock in Divination, so she was tempted to disregard her dreams. Like the nightmares she had of Bellatrix, they were simply thoughts she had during sleep and little to worry about in the waking hours… mostly.
Hermione did believe the dreams were true about one thing: her intuition was warning her. She knew Lucius could not be trusted, and not just because of what others had said about him. She had seen the man, had spoken to him personally, and sensed the danger that premediated off of him like poison. She just had to figure out a way to convince Draco that he truly was as dangerous as she perceived.
The second warning her intuition told her was of Ron. She had no idea what the youngest male Weasley was planning, but she knew he, too, could not be trusted. She knew, even without Harry’s “investigation” that it had been Ron who had given Rita Skeeter the tip. She had little doubt the bug was even now trying to find out more information. She just prayed the woman wouldn’t get it. For that, she would need help, and she knew it.
Slipping out of her bed, Hermione quickly dressed in a pair of jeans and a light pink jumper with front pockets. She stowed her wand in one of these pockets, wrapped her hair back in a tie, and put on a pair of trainers. She draped her cloak around her shoulders and fastened the broach. She checked herself in the mirror of her vanity one more time before stepping out into the halls.
She knew if Narcissa or Draco saw her walking the halls, they would stop and question her. She had a feeling this was more to watch her, but she wasn’t entirely sure. She knew Draco was terrified of her leaving him and she understood why, but she also knew that he knew she would never do that to him. As for Narcissa… Hermione could only surmise the Pureblood witch was so obsessed with the marriage, she feared anything that would deviate from it. In a lot of ways, Hermione was grateful, as Narcissa did most of the planning, allowing Hermione time to explore the Manor. At the same time, the Muggle born was wary of the older witch, with the constant insistence of old-fashioned clothing and traditions. Hermione could easily admit that she was learning a lot, and it was helpful in her understanding of why the Malfoys did some of the things they did, but it was also disturbing. How could Narcissa and Draco both be so easy going with Hermione and yet so cold when it came to others of Hermione’s kind?
And they were, too. Neither of the Purebloods thought the Gryffindor heard their conversations, but she had. When they believed she wasn’t there, Narcissa often dropped formalities, and while she didn’t use the term freely, she wasn’t afraid of calling a witch or wizard she had read about a “Mudblood”. Nor was she particularly kind when discussing with Draco the state of the Ministry. “Mudbloods will be taking over soon,” Narcissa would say.
Hermione wanted to call the witch out on her words, but knew it would be foolish. Besides, while Draco didn’t openly disagree with his mother, he never once used the terms or verbally agree with her either. In his case, Hermione concluded the wizard was truly trying to change, while still appeasing his parents. Also, the Muggle born had noticed that not once had Narcissa referred to her as a “Mudblood”. This “first-generation” term seemed to please Narcissa and she always spoke kindly of Hermione, whether talking to her son or to someone else.
The Gryffindor was careful to avoid the main drawing room. She wasn’t ready to tackle that beast again and she wasn’t certain she would ever be. Besides, that wasn’t her destination at the moment anyway. She entered the main study and went to the desk. Thankfully, a quill and some parchment was there atop the desk, and she wrote a quick note. Tucking the note in her jumper, she proceeded out of the study and out of the Manor.
Luckily, the Malfoys kept their owls in a small owlery near the back doors. Though, Hermione couldn’t really call it “small”. Stepping into the room, she let out a low whistle. It wasn’t a room. It was a miniature mansion! The room was filled with perches of all different shapes and sizes and massive nesting beds near the ceiling. Holes poked out from the sides of the room that led outside with ample room for the owls to land and walk inside. While most owleries were littered with skeletons of long dead prey and bird poop, this owlery was clean, tidy, and actually had a pleasant smell to it. Hermione could only surmise the upkeep was mostly because the Malfoys detested anything that assaulted their senses.
The Muggle born glanced about, looking at the birds that sat on the perches. There had to be at least twenty birds. And they were all eagle owls. Hermione blinked. “Um… Could one of you help me?” she asked a bit timidly.
The birds stared down at her haughtily for a while. One finally unfolded its wings and jumped down from its perch. Hermione watched the bird steadily. Though she was frightened the bird was going to attack her, she wouldn’t flinch or budge until it actually did. She knew she couldn’t show fear to these creatures. The bird landed on the perch next to her and looked at her expectantly.
“I need to send this letter to Pansy Parkinson,” she told the bird. “Would you mind?”
The bird made a sound similar to what Hermione remembered Hedwig making when she was agreeable. So, the Muggle born reached into her pocket and took the small scroll out. The bird lifted its leg and waited for Hermione to tie the parcel. “Please be safe,” she urged the bird.
If birds could sniff derisively, Hermione supposed that this bird would have. It gave her another haughty look, spread its wings again, and flew to one of the holes. Taking a moment to walk out onto the ledge, it flew off.
The Gryffindor couldn’t help but think that that had to be the strangest experience with an owl she had ever had. She started down the road with a quick step. Sure, it would be faster to sneak back into the Manor and use one of the fireplaces, but she didn’t want to wake anyone. So, she stepped out of the gates and Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.
To her relief, Hannah was there, cutting into a freshly baked apple pie. “Good morning, Hannah,” the Muggle born greeted in a sing-song voice.
The Hufflepuff glanced up and smiled. “Morning, Hermione,” she returned. “Where are you headed this morning? And without your fiancé?”
Hermione shrugged. “I was hoping to meet up with Harry at his office, or maybe catch him at his home,” she said. “I’ve some news that I think he’ll be happy to hear.”
The Half-blood nodded and returned to her cutting. She separated slices onto plates and placed the plates inside a glass display case. “Did you read the paper this morning?”
Hermione’s face fell. “I haven’t picked up the Prophet since that rubbish Skeeter printed,” she said. “What…?”
“Oh, no, not the Prophet,” Hannah said, waving her hand dismissively at the mention of the paper. “You know no sensible person bothers reading that puppy paper. No, no. I was talking about the Quibbler.”
Hermione’s frown deepened. “Apparently people do read the Prophet, if one were to judge by the amount of Howlers Draco and his mum received. Did you know people are actually accusing them of kidnapping and brainwashing me?”
Hannah’s eyes widened as she stared at Hermione. “You’re joking! All a person would need to do is look at Draco and know there was no way he would need to kidnap you,” she said.
Hermione blushed. “He has become more handsome with age, hasn’t he?”
“Handsome? Hermione, Draco Malfoy is hot! If anything, these people are just jealous,” the Hufflepuff said as she closed the case. “How much you want to wager the only people reading that rubbish are Slytherins and their ilk? Now, the Quibbler… wow, Hermione. You should read it.”
The Muggle born blinked. “You wouldn’t have a copy, would you?” she asked, feeling a sense of foreboding.
Smiling brightly, Hannah nodded. “Hang on,” she said as she dashed into the backroom.
She returned to the counter and handed Hermione the magazine. For a moment, Hermione just stared at the cover in shock. It was an old picture, she knew, and she knew when it had been taken and where. She still had those periwinkle robes. “Now, how…?” she breathed as she touched a laughing Draco as he swung the blushing girl in his arms.
The headline read: Gryffindor Princess Will Marry Her Handsome Prince Charming
Hermione quickly flipping through the pages to the head story and read it. Luna made it sound like a fairy tale come true! She briefly spoke of the war and how Draco had realized his mistakes, how he had fallen in love with the Gryffindor on the night of the Yule Ball, and how he had done all he could to win her heart. Luna shot down the allegations Skeeter had made, pointing out how Draco had comforted the Muggle born and pulled her out of her depression. “In a heroic act, the Slytherin Prince saved his princess’s life,” the article read.
Hermione swallowed passed the lump that had formed in her throat. What had been in that letter Narcissa had sent to Luna? Where had Luna gotten that Yule Ball picture from? There were other pictures, too, that confused Hermione. Pictures of Draco and Hermione sharing a kiss in the Leaky Cauldron when they thought no one was looking. Pictures of them celebrating Draco’s birthday where Hermione had smashed a handful of green icing into Draco’s face only to have the favour viciously returned amid laughter.
The Gryffindor took a deep breath and sat down. “This makes it look like I had been cheating on Ron,” she whispered.
Hannah frowned and took the paper from her. “Where? Where does it say that?” she asked. “It clearly states that you and Draco didn’t even become friends until after you and Ron broke up.”
Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, but the picture on the cover, Hannah? That was at the Yule Ball,” she confessed. “Draco had found me by the Black Lake. I was crying and he spoke with me. Cheered me up by dancing with me. I didn’t know anyone had taken pictures…”
The blonde shrugged. “Well, you weren’t exactly friends at the time, were you? And you weren’t dating Ron at the time. If anything, you were dating Viktor Krum.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Hermione argued. “He asked me to the dance, but we never dated.”
Again, the blonde shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it much,” she admitted. “After reading that article, no person in their right mind would argue that you and Draco were meant for one another.”
“Yeah, if anything, you two sound perfect for one another,” agreed another feminine voice.
Turning around, Hermione saw Ginny standing in the door way. She had a hard time deciding if the redhead was angry with her or annoyed at the article. Either way, Hermione stood. “Ginny,” she greeted, “look, I didn’t have anything to do with…”
The redhead nodded. “I know. Harry got the letter from Narcissa and gave it to Luna,” she explained. “Along with a picture of you and Malfoy dancing at the ball.” She held up a hand to stop Hermione from speaking. “I don’t want to know why you and Malfoy were dancing at the ball. Honestly, it’s really none of my business. Hannah’s right. You weren’t dating Ron at the time, so it really isn’t a big deal. Nor do I believe that tripe that witch Skeeter wrote. What I don’t understand is how you were able to fall in love with Malfoy so quickly? Malfoy, I can understand because of the article Luna wrote, though it does seem a bit sketchy, doesn’t it? All this time he liked you, but he couldn’t even stop his bitch aunt from hurting you?”
“If he had tried, she would have gone after him,” Hermione told her friend. “You saw that she had no qualms in killing her own family. And it wasn’t just Draco’s life on the line. If she had known of his feelings towards me, I would not have left that Manor alive. His parents probably would have suffered, too, no doubt.”
“Speaking of his parents,” Ginny said as she stepped further into the tavern and sat upon the stool next to Hermione. “What are you going to do about Lucius once he’s out? I can’t imagine you really want him out, nor that you honestly believe him to be good. You’re smarter than that.”
Hermione took a deep breath and resumed her seat. “I don’t trust him,” she said honestly. “However, he knows how to perform the spell I need to get my parents back. Plus, he knows the estate and will teach Draco what he needs to know. It’s unfortunate, but Draco’s education in that regard had been cut rather short when the Dark Lord arrived.”
“The Dark Lord?” Ginny questioned with a raised eyebrow.
The Muggle born rolled her eyes. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Narcissa lately. Most of the time, I just listen to her talk, occasionally offering a few words here and there. She’s very lonely without Lucius, which is sort of the other reason I want him out,” she admitted. “I honestly don’t know how much more of this two-faced talk I can take.”
“Well, at least she likes you,” Hannah said. “Neville’s gram openly admits that I’m not good enough for her grandson. I swear that woman is more irritating than a Cornish pixie.”
“You should hear my mum talk about Angelina Johnson,” Ginny pointed out. She gave the Muggle born a sidelong glance. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
Hermione shrugged. “Draco told me of a summer home they own right outside London. Hopefully, after we marry, I can talk him into moving there,” she said. “It’ll be close enough to Wiltshire so he could work with his father, yet far enough away that we can have our own lives together away from his parents.”
Ginny snapped her fingers and pointed at the Muggle born. “And if by chance Lucius manages to get your parents’ memories back…”
The brunette nodded. “I would hate to put anyone in a situation where they are more uncomfortable than they need to be.”
“You know Narcissa will insist on having your parents come to the Manor for Christmas,” Ginny stated. “She had even said as much the last time I spoke to her.”
“Yes, I know,” Hermione admitted, “but that doesn’t mean they have to eat dinner together every night. Holidays and birthdays, I can understand. Even anniversaries are understandable… to an extent.”
“The only thing they should be offering for your anniversary is free babysitting,” the redhead said, giving her friend a look.
“Ugh! Draco and Hermione with a child?” Pansy sneered as she entered the tavern. “That will be a depressing sight.”
“Parkinson,” Ginny growled, “what are you doing here?”
The Slytherin held up the letter Hermione had sent. “I was invited, Potter. And you?”
Hermione stood. “Thank you for coming, Pansy,” she said, offering the Pureblood her stool.
But Pansy shook her head. “You seemed almost a bit desperate in your letter, Granger,” she stated, leaning against a table. “Your wedding is in three days. You’re not getting cold feet, are you? Because you won’t get any reassurance from me.”
The Muggle born gave a short, humourless laugh and shook her head. “No,” she said. “Nothing will keep me from marrying Draco come Thursday. No, actually, I wanted to ask your opinion on something.” When the Slytherin lifted an eyebrow, Hermione continued, “You’ve known the Malfoys your whole life. I know this because at one time, your father had spoken to Lucius about you and Draco becoming betrothed.”
“Yes, but Lucius turned him down,” Pansy commented. “He wanted Draco to marry Astoria Greengrass, which would have been one of the worst moves he could have made for his family, if it had gone through. Of course, he had already dug a muddy hole for the family by tangling with the Dark Lord. Having his son marry you is actually a big step up.”
“That wasn’t Lucius’s choice,” Hermione pointed out defensively. “That is between Draco and me.”
“Oh, sure, it is,” the Slytherin snorted. “Don’t be so naïve, Granger. You’re smarter than that. You honestly think Draco would be engaged to you if it didn’t meet Daddy’s approval?” She shook her head and pointed at the magazine in Hermione’s hands. “That boy lives and breathes his family, Granger, and I know you know that. I’m not stupid enough to think you haven’t been reading about them and studying their every move. The only reason Draco started to pursue you is because his parents gave him the go.”
“Yes, I know,” the brunette acknowledged. “Though I haven’t been able to figure out Lucius’s angle yet, Narcissa is hoping that my influence will build the Malfoy name back up, but that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. All three of you actually.”
Hermione stood again and began pacing. “Look, that Manor holds a lot of negative memories for me that I’m not entirely comfortable facing right now. In time, I know I can overcome them. Even to the point of living there someday,” she said, not looking at anyone as she spoke. “However, I don’t trust Lucius. I don’t care what Draco says about him, I’ve seen the worst side of Lucius, and furthermore, I’ve spoken to him in private. The man hates me with a passion and I know he’ll do everything in his power to ruin what Draco and I have the moment the opportunity comes to him. I need to keep him from doing that. I need to know what I can do to convince him that I am right for his son.”
She stopped pacing and glanced at the women. “There’s something else, too,” she told them. “Something Draco and I were discussing the other night. We are planning on having a governess tutor our children when we have them. At least until they are of Hogwarts age. However, we both realized that not all families can afford such a tutor. Furthermore, I was thinking that maybe if a Muggle born is taught about our world before going to Hogwarts, it could make adjusting to our world easier for them, as well as make acceptance easier, too.”
Ginny frowned and asked, “So you want to give those who can’t afford it a governess? Hermione, as generous as that is, that can be costly. My brothers and I were homeschooled by our mum…”
The Muggle born shook her head. “No. We could never afford governesses for every family. However, Draco and I were speaking of opening a primary school,” she told them. “It will help them learn the basics: math, science, reading, writing, and the arts, if they choose. At the same time, like I said, we can help Muggle borns adjust, which will make them going to Hogwarts easier and less of a shock.” She shrugged. “I remember our years in Hogwarts. I wasn’t the only Muggle born who didn’t understand certain things that you have known your entire life.”
“Granger, you can’t compare yourself to normal Muggle borns,” Pansy stated. “You’re quite possibly the only Muggle born I’ve ever known who wanted to know everything about our world that you could get your hands on.”
“History of Magic should start in primary school,” Hermione pressed. “And not with a ghost for a teacher.”
“You have another problem,” the Slytherin pointed out. “You have no staff, no curriculum… Where are you going to put this school? The first few years of a child’s life should be in easy reach of their parents.”
Hermione nodded. “Then we start with a school here in England. Somewhere central. If it works out, maybe we could open a school in Ireland and another in Scotland,” she explained. She took out her wand and conjured a roll of parchment where she had written her notes on. “It’ll take some planning and work, but I think we could do it.”
“And the Malfoy family is going to finance this?” Pansy asked doubtfully.
Hermione shrugged. “At first, yes,” she stated. “But we’ll encourage donations. The point is to make this school both public and free. No one should have to pay for basic education and children should be taught in an environment with their peers.”
“Lucius will never agree to that,” Pansy said.
“He doesn’t have to,” Hermione commented. She looked at Ginny. “That’s what I wanted to talk to Harry about. I want to know just how much freedom Lucius is going to have. I know he’ll be under house arrest, but for how long?”
The redhead shrugged. “I don’t know. With luck, it’ll be for the rest of his life.”
Hermione nodded. “Well, we need to figure out a location and start putting out feelers for possible teachers. We need kind, gentle teachers who are good with children. We can’t have people like Snape on our staff. God rest his soul, I pray he’s found peace, but he was far too harsh and his favouritism impeded students from learning.”
“Didn’t help that he was a bully,” Hannah commented.
Pansy rolled her eyes. “He just wanted us all to learn the material. He pushed us to make us better.”
“He was never as hard on the Slytherins as he was on others,” Ginny argued. “And I don’t just speak for Gryffindor House. I had Potions with Hufflepuffs and with Ravenclaws. He was horrid to all of us.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Hermione said, cutting off the argument that was building. “He gone now and I won’t have us speaking ill of the dead, especially someone has courageous as him.”
Ginny nodded. “Harry told you, then?”
The Muggle born gave her friend a smile. “He did,” she admitted. “I have to say, it was quite unexpected, but not surprising in the least. When Harry told me, the past 7 years started making sense. I finally understood who Snape was and why he did what he had done.” She shrugged. “I think that might be why I’m leaning towards forgiving the Malfoys.” Ginny snorted, but Hermione shook her head. “No, listen. How much do you want to bet Lucius did not know what he was doing when he gave you that diary?”
“Oh, come off it, Hermione!” the redhead scoffed. “He had to know something about it. He was looking to get my dad fired.”
“Maybe,” the Muggle born agreed, “but I doubt he knew exactly what the book would do. And we both know Bellatrix was not supposed to be in the Department of Mysteries that night. Lucius had even said as much, hadn’t he? He snapped at her for showing up.”
“Only because he wanted all the glory!” the younger witch argued. “I’m sorry, Hermione, there isn’t anything you can say that will convince me to like the man.”
Hermione shook her head. “I wouldn’t want you to. God knows I can hardly stand him and I really don’t want to live in the same house with him.”
“Is old Lucius too much for you to handle, Granger?” Pansy asked with a smirk.
Hermione frowned as she looked at the Slytherin. “Would you want to live with someone who hates you with a passion? Someone who has jeopardized the lives of your closest friends?” she questioned. “Someone who was ready to throw you to the wolves in hopes to gain favour with Voldemort?”
Pansy shrugged. “I would do anything if it meant protecting my family,” she said. “And that’s what he’s going to be to you in three days. Your family. So, you’ll have to learn to live with him in your life, if not in your home.” She raised an eyebrow. “We don’t know everything the Dark Lord put the Malfoys under, especially after Lucius failed at the Ministry. Draco wouldn’t even speak of it, but I knew he was hurting badly. In the months after the way, he became even more distant and started pushing us all away. Blaise and Theo seemed to catch on faster than the rest of us, and urged us all to stay away from him. They assured us that he would come to us when he was ready, and he did. Though, I don’t see him and Goyle ever speaking to one another again.”
“Nor do I,” Hermione admitted. “He blames Draco for Crabbe’s death and, honestly, too much has happened since then that I do believe reconciliation is near impossible.” She sighed. “Fact is, Draco didn’t go to Crabbe’s memorial service. He never contacted Goyle. Grant it, Goyle never contacted Draco, either, but still. I think Goyle felt that it should have been Draco’s responsibility.”
“Because in Goyle’s mind, it was Draco’s responsibility,” Pansy said. “Draco was their leader. In fact, he was the leader of Slytherin House while he was there. Why do you think Lovegood’s article dubs him the ‘Slytherin Prince’? Draco, Blaise, and Theo were the leaders, and even then, Draco was above them. People looked up to him and he failed them. Course, it was for good reason, but he still failed them. When the time came, Draco did not lead us into battle. Nor did he make any of the visits he should have after the war. He’s never apologized to anyone.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to,” Hermione pointed out and Pansy nodded.
“Nor I. Malfoys rarely apologize for anything,” the Slytherin said. “Unless they know they’ll be getting something out of it. And even then, most of the time, their apology holds a lot of biting criticism to it.”
“Draco apologized to my parents,” Ginny said suddenly, drawing Pansy’s attention.
The Slytherin nodded. “Of that I have no doubt. You may not believe it, Potter, but he actually liked your twin brothers. He found them funny, though he would never admit it aloud,” she told her. “That and, let’s think about it for a moment. He wanted to pursue Granger and he knew she wouldn’t give him the time of day unless he tried to patch things up with the people he knew hated him.” She shrugged. “Apologizing to your parents and being sincere, at this point, is a very Malfoy move. They may be angry with her for whatever wrong they think Hermione did to their youngest son, and they may be annoyed with Draco for taking away their son’s fiancée, but I doubt they hold a grudge against him.”
“They aren’t annoyed or angry with Draco or Hermione,” Ginny said. “If anything, they’re mad at Ron for what he did to Hermione. What he’s continued to do to her. That article Skeeter wrote could have destroyed Draco. And Hermione, too.”
Pansy nodded. “Yes, it could have. Your brother and Draco may have been old school enemies before, but I can guarantee they even worse now. The Malfoys do not take such slander lightly.” Before Ginny could say anything, Pansy continued, “Lucius has acted a fool on several occasions, yes. He tried and failed at things because he didn’t think them through. He didn’t plan accordingly. But Draco’s a lot smarter than his father. He’s more cunning, too. Your brother should watch his back. If he keeps picking at Draco, he’s going to lose more than his job. And that isn’t a threat, it’s a promise. He would do best to leave Draco and Hermione, especially Hermione, alone.”
“If Draco tries anything, it will backfire on him,” Ginny said confidently. “My brother is a war hero. People aren’t going to readily accept anything Draco has to say against him.”
Pansy glanced at Hermione and looked back at Ginny. “Do you honestly think Draco would back up any claims he has with just words? Like I said, he’s much too cunning for that.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Hermione said as she stopped pacing and looked at her friends. “Ron’s not going to continue and Draco is not going to do anything to him.” Her eyes rested on Ginny. “I can handle Draco and I can handle Ron. But I can’t handle both of them on my own. Now, Ron is not allowed at my wedding. In fact, Draco has even said that he doesn’t want any reporters there or people who would tell reporters anything. I have to say I agree with him, too. We both agreed on having Luna there as well.”
“You know Luna’s going to want to report the wedding,” Ginny told her. “More than likely, she’ll have a cameraman with her as well.”
Hermione nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from her. I know she’ll report the truth of what’s going on.”
(II)(II)
“Draco!” Narcissa called as she opened the door to her son’s rooms.
Draco grabbed his coverlet and pulled it more firmly over his head as he rolled over on his side. He was so perfectly comfortable and warm in his bed. The last thing he wanted to do was get up, so he scrunched his eyes shut as he heard his mother open his bedroom door.
He heard his mother tsk and the next moment, his wonderful cocoon of warmth flew off of him. He naturally curled himself into a ball and glared at his mother. After all, he wasn’t the type to sleep with clothing on and the early morning air was cold.
But the older woman wasn’t frightened of her son. “Get up and get dressed,” she ordered. “Do you know where Hermione is?”
Frowning, Draco peeked his head up from his ball. “What are you talking about? She should be in her rooms,” he said.
Narcissa shook her head. “She isn’t. Honestly, Draco. You should pay more attention to your bride. You’ll be married in three short days. Did she not tell you she would be going off today?”
Concerned, the blond Pureblood uncurled himself and slowly sat up. He didn’t bother taking up his wand. Lifting up a hand, he silently conjured a pair of trousers and green y-fronts. As he dressed, he walked into his closet and grabbed a green polo shirt from its hanger. Like his other shirts, this one had the Slytherin crest etched into the left chest.
He really had no idea where Hermione was, though he had a sinking feeling. It made him angry for several reasons, the main one being that she left without informing him.
“Do you have any idea where she is?” Narcissa asked as he was tucking his wand into his boot.
He really did not need to listen to his mother berate his ability to keep track of his own wife. “I have a good idea,” he told her.
Draco paused for a moment, tilting his head up a bit to listen to what he thought was the gate. “Maisey!” he shouted as he grabbed his comb and tamed his hair. He did not wait for the elf to address him. The moment he heard the crack, he said, “I need you to locate Hermione.”
“Miss Granger is here, Master Draco, sir,” the little elf answered. “Miss Granger just came through the gate and is heading back here.”
The wizard stopped and stared at the elf with narrowed eyes. “Very well. Then inform Miss Granger that breakfast will be served in the dining room and she is expected to be there in thirty minutes,” he said as he placed his comb onto his vanity and picked up a bottle. He tipped the bottle and a small amount of gel potion poured into his hand. Putting the bottle back, he smeared the potion over his hands and then through his hair. “And make sure breakfast is ready in that time,” he said to the elf before the elf vanished.
He needed these few moments to calm down because he could feel the anger building. He wanted to strangle her. To lash out. How dare she leave! Did she not even consider telling him where she was going? Where had she gone? Who did she think she was to go anywhere without his knowledge?
Draco paused and braced himself on the vanity. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes as he worked to control his emotions. She came back, he thought to himself. He then kept chanting that phrase in his mind as he reeled in the emotions he was feeling.
Realization came to him as he opened his eyes and stared into the mirror. He wasn’t angry. He was scared. The moment his mother told him that Hermione was gone, he truly believed she had left him.
Picking up a pristine white hand towel, he cleaned the extra gel off of his hands. He took several deep breaths and looked at his mother through the mirror. “Thursday cannot come fast enough,” he said, earning a nod from his mother.
“But she does need to learn that she cannot just leave without informing you,” the witch told her son.
“I know, Mother,” he said with a sneer. “She and I will discuss her behaviour and what is expected of a Malfoy wife.” His face relaxed at this statement. “To be honest, she really doesn’t know, unless you’ve told her. She’s a Muggle born and is still learning how we function as a family.”
Narcissa sighed. “It shouldn’t be my responsibility, and it isn’t. She may be Muggle born, but it’s obvious she has had some training in living amongst the privileged. As her husband, you should guide her the rest of the way,” she explained. “She doesn’t know the traditions and expectations of our family, and if she doesn’t learn them soon, you won’t get very far, darling.”
He nodded. “Like I said, I will speak with her,” he assured his mother.
“Your father will be home soon,” she reminded him. “And you know he will not tolerate any disobedience.”
He nodded again. “I know, Mother,” Draco stated.
(III)(III)
Hermione felt she could slice through the tension in the air with a butter knife, it was so thick. She frowned as she glanced at her fiancé. “Draco?” she tried.
His eyes shot up and met hers. “Where were you this morning?” he asked, harsher than he had meant. He realized his words the moment he said them, and while his face softened, he did not take them back. Nor did he apologize.
Hermione balked and both of her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. It wasn’t so much the question as it was the way he had asked it. She immediately went on the defensive. “If you must know, I was at the Leaky Cauldron,” she told him shrewdly.
“And you didn’t think to leave a note?” he asked. “Who were you with?”
The Muggle born scowled. “I wasn’t aware I had to answer to you,” she snapped. “We…”
“We’re getting married in three days, Hermione,” he responded, his cheeks reddening. “We are supposed to be a partnership. That means, I tell you where I am and you do the same. As your husband, I need to know where you are, who you are with, and what you are doing.”
“Meaning, you want absolute control,” she snarled. “You cannot expect me to agree to this.”
Draco could feel his temper rising again and he clenched his fist. “It’s not about control,” he growled. “I don’t really care what you do with your friends, but I would like to know what you’re doing and where you are.”
“If you don’t care, then…”
“It’s called respect!” he interrupted her, barking the last word. He pointed at her as he spat, “You are going to be a Malfoy.”
Hermione stood up then. “Fine!” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “You want respect? You have to give me some first. I can’t just keep giving.”
He stood as well. “My manor, my galleons,” he growled. “I give you clothes, jewelry. You can have anything and everything you want, Hermione. I even ordered my elves to take better care of themselves for you! What more do you want?!”
“You think I care about your money and your grandiose estate?” she yelled. “In the six years we went to school together, where did you get the impression that I care about things?! I asked you if we could have a smaller home away from the Manor because I know living with your father is going to be difficult. I don’t care what you say about him, Draco. The man hates me. And he’s always going to hate me.” She glanced at Narcissa. “No matter how many times one uses the phrase ‘first-generation witch’.” She turned back to the wizard. “Do you honestly believe he’s going to buy into those words? Not to mention, I am terrified of walking around here because I am so paranoid I’m going to walk back into that bloody drawing room! Don’t you think I deserve a home where I feel safe and secure? You act like it’s such a chore to commute between the Manor and a home of our own that you won’t even consider the possibility.”
“You know I need to learn the estate!”
“And you can still do that, Draco!” she shouted back. “Every other hard working wizard and witch wakes up each morning, eats breakfast, and goes to work. Then, when the day is done, they go home!” Tired, she sat back down and sighed. “You’ve been put in a rare position in that you actually live where you work, and that’s fine, if you weren’t getting ready to start a family. Draco, we need the space, the assurance. Aside from Hogwarts, have you ever even lived outside of this Manor?”
The Pureblood wizard clenched his jaw and shook his head. “I don’t know how…”
“I’m sure your parents have given you the tools you need to live on your own,” she interrupted. “You just don’t want to do it.”
His eyes narrowed and she sighed again. “We’re getting married in three days, Draco,” she regurgitated to him. “Don’t you think it’s time to grow up? Your parents are still here and you can see them anytime you want.”
Sitting down, he wasn’t sure how this conversation had turned this way. He had been angry, and scared, because she had left without telling him. Now he was angry and scared because… Because… Bowing his head, he closed his eyes.
The reason he hadn’t returned to Hogwarts that added year was because of his last two years there. He had spent those years in a constant fear that he would become an orphan. Having the Dark Lord living in his home had been terrifying. His aunt being there as well didn’t help matters.
“What is it like?” he asked in a whisper, as he looked down at his hands. “When you wake each morning and realize they aren’t there?”
Silence reigned. Food was forgotten. Quietly, Narcissa stood and slipped out of the room. She knew the Muggle born spoke the truth, but it was a bit hard for her to accept. Her son was a man now and, as such, he did need his own space away from his parents. It was time to bring the coddling to an end, though the older witch wanted to hold onto him for as long as she could. As she walked down the halls towards her bedroom, a single tear fell from her eye.
Hermione moved to sit next to Draco and looked down at her own hands. “I cry every day,” she said softly. “I rarely sleep and everything I see reminds me of them.”
Draco was quiet for a bit longer before finally saying softly, “Both times my father was arrested, I felt like my life was over. I wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared. My entire life I had spent depending on him. I… I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t know what I’m doing half the time. I fly around the estate and I feel like an idiot when one of the employees start talking to me.”
The Muggle born nodded as she glanced at him. “He’ll be released soon,” she said. “And he’ll teach you all the things you need to know. From what I’ve learned of this place and you, you already know much of it. You understand finances and costs, you just need to hone your skills.” Her eyes fell to his hands and she reached out and threaded her own fingers through his. “Point is, Draco. You don’t need to be around your father all day, every day. You already know how to care for yourself. You’ve done it, and whatever you can’t get? Well, that’s why I’m here. We can do anything we want to do, so long as it’s together.”
“We can’t do that if you leave without telling me,” he said, trying to steer the conversation back to the original topic as he squeezed her hand.
Closing her eyes, she nodded. “I agree,” she conceded. “I should have said something.” Looking up at him, she gave the wizard a shy smile. “I guess I still have a lot to learn as well.”
“So, what did you do?” he asked, this time much calmer.
She told him about the little meeting she had with the girls in the Cauldron. To her, it seemed that Pansy was the one most on board with the primary school.
“You talked to Pansy?” he asked, surprised. She nodded with a smile. “You,” he said, pointing at her. “You. Talked to Pansy?”
She giggled. “It’s not like she’s some sort of viper,” she admitted. “She’s actually very intelligent and had quite a few really good ideas.”
He nodded. “She can be tough, but once you break down that rough exterior, she’s pretty cool. She actually has quite the sense of humour, too, even when she’s not being degrading,” he told her. “She’ll be quite the asset to the school and I commend you for earning her trust.”
She shrugged. “Well, honestly, I think she’s doing it mostly for you,” she said, giving him a side glance and knocking her shoulder against his. “She still likes you, you know?”
He straightened. “Of course, she does,” he said, smirking. “I’m Draco Malfoy.”
Hermione threw her head back and laughed. “Only you would be that conceited,” she giggled.
“It’s not conceit if it’s true,” he defended, chuckling.
The sound of Draco’s stomach growling, completely undignified, sent them both into a round of uncontrollable laughter. “Oh, no!” Hermione exclaimed, trying to speak through her giggles. “Those poor house elves! They went through all that trouble and we didn’t even eat.”
He shook his head. “They’ll be fine,” Draco said. “Though, we should probably go to Hogsmeade or even Diagon Alley and get something.”
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