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His Relinquishment	By : lexiatel Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 70407 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Jk Rowling, I do not make any profit in writing this story what so ever. I am just having some fun.

Chapter List
- 21
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Hermione woke up to several pairs of eyes staring at her. At first, it had startled her, but then she relaxed— they were only Draco's house elves.
She hadn't realized how many he actually owned until right at that moment when they were all standing near the side of the bed that she had slept on. He had over two dozen of them!
They continued to look at her, as if they were expecting something of her. Some looked bored, while quite a few were eager or anxious.
"What's going on?" she asked through a stretch, groaning at her abundance of sore, protesting muscles, wincing at the tight pain.
"We's waiting for the missus to direct us," a tiny one answered. Hermione had not met this one (she hadn't met most of them!), but she guessed that this one was very young, as she sounded so.
"You can't mean me?" Hermione asked.
"The Master said so," another one said with a nod, who was surprisingly well rounded for a house elf.
Hermione sat up in confusion. She rapidly tapped her still-sleeping husband until he gave a gruff, "What?"
"Your house elves are staring at me," she told him quietly. Then she mumbled an apology for waking him up.
Draco rolled over to sit up, arching his back in a stretch. He groaned just as Hermione had, loud and long, his own muscles worn out after their late night activities. "Fuck, I need a good, hot soak," he muttered under his breath, tilting his head side to side to loosen up his neck.
He smirked when he noticed her waiting for him to explain what was going on with the house elves. He lifted his hand, fingering some of her hair. "That was some night, wasn't it?"
Hermione looked away, blushing, recalling the very wild night that they had together. It had been incredibly wonderful, and her gut tightened up with excitement knowing they would do it again tonight.
"Every night," he had promised with a whisper in her ear. "I'll fuck you like this every night— if you'll let me."
And she promised she would.
Hermione closed her eyes, humming in delight as Draco leaned over and brushed her hair from her neck to kiss at it.
"Good morning, my lovely wife," he purred. "Did you sleep well; I hope?"
"Very well," she told him with a croak in her voice, an effect of his soft, nipping lips. "Thank you."
"And are you currently satisfied with your husband— tell me that you are."
She nodded. "I am," she assured him.
"Wonderful," he murmured against her skin, toying with it.
"And what about me?" she asked, pulling away in a sudden worry that she wasn't good enough for him.
Draco smiled at her and cupped her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. "You are responding perfectly," he said. "Don't you feel much better now— having accepted the spell? Isn't it just... euphoric?"
"I can remember hating you, but… things have changed... " Hermione admitted. It was foolish to keep on hating him when he had proved to her that he would keep her safe and happy. And she honestly believed he would continue to do so. After all, they were both under the same spell, each of them needing to please the other.
She couldn't say she loved him, but something was different today than yesterday. She felt like she never wanted to be apart from Draco. She could sit in bed all day, if he was there with her. Hermione was glad she decided to kiss him the night before. He was right: she felt so much better now.
Now all she had to focus on was making him happy, and he already said she was doing that just fine.
"It's supposed to be like that; it forces our differences to fade away, so we can become a better couple."
Hermione leaned into him, relishing over his brilliant mind. He really was smart. Like herself. They were perfect for each other.
"Why are the elves waiting for me to give them commands?" Hermione asked when she seen that the elves were still there, watching the scene.
"My sweet wife, I explained this already to you yesterday, but you weren't paying me any attention."
"Sorry," she mumbled truthfully, feeling bad about how she had acted toward him— even though, at the time, she believed he had deserved it.
"You're alright," Draco told her, looping his arms around her body, pulling her back into his chest. "The Malfoy women traditionally always conduct the house elves," he explained. "So they are here, awaiting for their daily chore list from you."
"I've never… had servants," Hermione said shamefully, regretting her less-than-wealthy past. It was no wonder he had hated her… she was clueless when it came to riches. "I—I wouldn't know how…"
"You make them do whatever you wish. Some are better than others when it comes to certain things. Loopy—he's the one on the far right with the red tea towel— is the best laundry washer a man can ever have. And Dinnger—" Draco pointed out a taller one in the back who straightened up nice and tall when she was mentioned, "—she's a great cook. Flooter's not here right now, she just had a baby last week, but she normally tends to the gardens. Root has taken over for her, though he's not as good."
A house elf covered his eyes, whimpering in shame. This could only be Root.
Draco went on and on, telling her of each house elf's duty and even announced that Bobby was now her personal one; though they all would do practically anything she asked them.
"They won't assist you in an escape though," he advised her. "But you don't plan on doing that anyway, do you?"
Hermione had a terrible time thinking as his lips were grazing over the lobe of her ear. He softly flicked at it with the tip of his tongue, making her let out a quiet moan.
"You'd rather stay here in the Manor with me, wouldn't you, wife?"
She nodded, unable to give him a verbal answer.
"That's what I thought," Draco said, pleased by her answer. "Tell the house elves their duties for the day, then you and I can take a nice, hot bath to sooth our over-worked muscles."
"Erm…" Hermione eyed the crowd of house elves over. "How about… do whatever Draco usually has you do any other day?"
They responded with a unison of "Yes, Mistress," before they all gave her a bow and cracked off, each crack sounding different.
Two remained; Bobby and the cook, Dinnger.
"What would Mistress like Dinnger to make for this day's meals?"
"What do you want to eat?" Hermione asked Draco.
He shook his head. "As the Mistress, you get to decide the main meals."
"But what if you don't like what I have her prepare?"
"She knows what I'll eat, and she'll tell you so. In time, you will learn what I like and what I do not like, my wife."
"Okay," Hermione agreed warily. "Um, for breakfast, I'd like a ham and cheese bagel, please. For lunch… vegetable soup with buttered bread, and for dinner, I'd like roast chicken with chips and a green salad."
"As you command, Mistress." Dinnger was then gone.
"And when a house elf waits for you like Bobby has been, and you have nothing for them to personally do, you only have to dismiss them. They will then be on their way."
"Okay," Hermione said, storing this information in her head. "Then, Bobby, I've nothing for you to do at the moment, thank you. You may leave."
Bobby bowed low, thanking Hermione for her time before she was also gone, leaving her Master and Mistress alone.
"Brilliant! You're already getting the hang of being a Malfoy wife!" Draco hugged tightly her to him, rewarding her with a kiss to the top of the head.
"Now, how about we soak in a tub of hot, bubbly water for a while?"
"I would love that, thank you, Draco."
*/*
"Merlin, Blaise! I could actually kiss you—"
"Well, don't!" Blaise darted from Draco, who had flooed to the Zabini estate to show him his gratitude. The man cringed at the thought of Draco kissing him.
"I take it she's worshipping the ground you walk on?" he asked, pouring Draco a drink and holding it out for him.
"And then more!" Draco took a quick sip before continuing, "Even after I saved her arse, she still refused to trust me, so I asked her what I could do to get her to understand how I feel about her; at first she wanted me to let the nit go, but I told her I had no control over him—"
"Bernie's gotten quite attached to him," Blaise said firmly.
"I know, but she doesn't."
"For a nit, he's really not all that bad; awfully smart, little thing, I reckon he gets that from your wife though."
"Anyway," Draco returned to the original subject, not caring about the nit, "she requested a library, out of all the possible things someone could ask for!" He rolled his eyes. "She's so bloody predictable!"
"And yet, you sound surprised."
"She's a captive, who can have about anything she wants— she didn't even ask for a wand! What kind of witch doesn't want a wand?!"
"And if she had requested a wand, would you have given her one?"
Draco scoffed. "Do you think I'm thick?! Of course not!" Draco's face then turned thoughtful. "Not then anyway…But now… well… perhaps I would… if she asked."
Blaise's eyebrows raised, surprised Draco would actually say that.
"All morning, she's constantly been asking if she's doing everything right to my liking," Draco said with a smirk. "She even asked me what I wanted her to wear!"
Blaise lifted his glass in a toasting gesture. "Congratulations, then. 'Bout time really. So what finally turned her?"
"I tricked her into giving me a kiss."
"Oh, mate!" Blaise gasped out in amused laughter. "That's fucking gold there! And she actually did it?! Hermione Granger actually willingly kissed you?!"
Draco nodded smugly. "I knew she'd do it, if I offered her the library in exchange."
"And have you even given her the library?"
"Not yet," he answered with a shrug. "But she also hasn't asked for it either. She's too busy trying to make sure she doesn't foul anything up with me."
"Just remember that it works both ways, Draco," his friend warned him. "I can't even begin the list of things I've done for Bernice, she's the only reason that the nit is still sane around me."
"Oh, I know. I'm going to make sure she's just as happy with me as I am with her. I plan on pampering her and introducing her to the luxurious life she's been married into. She's my wife after all, it's my duty as a Malfoy to spoil her— now that she wants to be married to me! She's changed for the better! And she'll be greatly rewarded for it!"
*/*
"Mr. Blaise has a visitor," Samuel announced to Bernice in a hushed voice.
"You're not supposed to spy on him!" Bernice scolded the boy. "You won't like it if he catches you doing it!"
"But he won't catch me," the boy insisted. "And if he did, I can just pretend I'm cleaning!" He held up the mop that he had been propping his body against, waving it in the air.
"You know how he gets, Sam; I mean it, don't piss him off!"
"But he promised you he wouldn't hurt me."
"That doesn't mean you need to test the honour of his word!" she hissed.
Samuel sighed in defeat. "Fine! But I just thought you would want to know that Mr. Malfoy is here."
This piqued Bernice's interest. Blaise had been trying to help his friend convert Hermione Granger to the dark side— something that couldn't be allowed to happen!
"What did Mr. Malfoy have to say," she asked the boy, all warning of spying on the Master of the house forgotten.
"He was happy, and I almost thought he was going to kiss Mr. Blaise!" the boy answered in a whisper, laughing naively at the thought. Though, he stopped when Bernice didn't echo the action.
"It's not good then? It's not good that Mr. Malfoy is happy? I thought it is always good when the Purebloods are happy and smiling? Because then they aren't mad, and we aren't punished!"
Bernice kept her tragic thoughts to herself, not wishing to alarm Samuel. He was a smart young man, but was defenseless against anything Blaise could do to him, both mentally and physically. It was best that the six-year-old was kept in the dark.
"Of course it's okay that Mr. Malfoy is happy, I was only thinking that I forgot to do something that Blaise requested of me."
Samuel's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, you better do it then, before he notices!" he urged her.
Bernice nodded in agreement. Though, Blaise was somewhat lenient with her, he didn't spare to make threats toward the people he held captive to make her mind.
And Samuel knew this. More than Bernice was willing to accept. Blaise had made the boy witness a brutal beating of a Muggle that he had 'hunted' as a way to make him fear him. With great difficulty, Bernice had charmed Samuel's mind to help forget a lot of the event, but there was only so much she could do since she wasn't actually trained in that type of magic and certainly didn't want to risk his mind anymore than she had.
Thankfully, Blaise felt that that one time was good enough to prove to Samuel who was in control, and he hadn't done anything like that again. But there were a few times where Bernice had went to refuse one of Blaise's commands and he threatened to tie Samuel up in the room he used for torturing.
The room he made her clean after he was finished with it.
The room that lacked any actual bodies of the unfortunate, innocent souls he had finished 'playing' with, because the bodies would end up butchered so badly, all that would be left was mush.
"You're really lucky that you're magical," he told her once, as he watched her mop up the bloody mess. He had 'claimed' Bernice as his wife only two days before making her clean his mess up for the first time. "Those remains could have easily been you. Can you imagine? Your brains smashed into the flooring just like that disgusting Muggle's you're mopping up now?" He had giggled when Bernice responded with a whimper, scared of the thought of being a victim caught under Blaise's many inventions used for such destruction.
This was the same man who could speak so gently to her, never once raising his voice.
He didn't have to.
"I'm not allowed to hurt you," he told her the first night that he tied her to the bed. "I don't even want to hurt you. Don't you realize how special you are? The Dark Lord especially picked you for me. I will treat you like my queen, but only when you first accept me as your king. That's marriage, Bernie, together we're a team. You give, I take, and then I give to you, and you take what I give."
Even when she refused, begging him to not do what he had been ordered to do by the Dark Lord, his voice was gentle, patient, and calm.
Though he did use her until she could no longer fight, exhausted from the effort of getting him to stop. She learned that Blaise got more excited and more violent with a fighter.
She learned to... just let him get it over and done with.
But he was also like that with the victims he intended to fatally harm. His voice never rose while he did his dreadful deeds, always staying at a calm, soft level and getting bored when they gave up fighting, and when they did, he didn't want to 'play' with them anymore.
He was incredibly insane. There was nothing right about him. Absolutely nothing.
Bernice felt like crying. Her chest tightened up with a sharp pain. It was often difficult to breathe and stay strong. But she had no other choice.
"Go to your room until I return for you," she ordered Samuel with immense struggle not to cry.
Samuel didn't argue with her, recognizing tone. She watched him hurry off, not taking her eyes off him until he was out of sight. She listened to his quick, faint footsteps and waited until all was quiet except the muffled voices of Blaise and Mr. Malfoy.
Bernice closed her eyes and took a deep breath, choking back a sob before retrieving her wand from her dress and cast a spell with it.
"She's… been consumed…" Bernice announced slowly, emotionally affected by the news herself.
Neville stiffened, momentarily stunned by her words. "Please tell me you're not speaking of Hermione?"
Bernice clasped her trembling hands together, refusing to show the Pureblood her nervousness. "I'm afraid so," she confirmed. "And she knows…"
"Knows what?" Neville practically snapped, probably fearing the worst.
"About me— that I'm… pretending…"
"How does she know that?"
"I… well, I kind of gave her a hint about it yesterday—" Bernice pressed her lips shut when Neville groaned.
"We don't have a defense for this!" he burst out. "You got the last Flatterbug Egg until the autumn! If she takes his mark before then, before she swallows the egg, then we're in trouble!"
"We're already in trouble! When word gets out that the strongest person of our time has been consumed, she won't even have to take his Mark before people start dropping out of the Rebel Force! And when those two produce an heir, who will also be on his side, there is not a thing anyone will be able to do…
Face it, Longbottom, we're… screwed."
Neville visibly took a deep breath. "Maybe we can do something…" he said a moment later.
"What?" Bernice was doubtful at this point.
"You need to erase Hermione's memory of you telling her that you aren't consumed yourself— before she tells Malfoy..."
Bernice went still, unable to hear anything more Neville had to say. If Blaise found out she was lying to him, he'd surely punish her for it. And then, he'd want to know why she was lying.
He couldn't know why. If he knew that she belonged to an opposing party, one that the Dark Lord didn't even know about, he'd surely take it out on the people she loved. Not to mention, he'd tell the Dark Lord about it, eliminating their plan for the element of surprise.
"I'm not doing anything more until my family is released from that freak," she interrupted Neville who was telling her what she could do about Hermione.
Neville stared at her a moment, frustrated with the current issue at hand. He placed a hand to his forehead, rubbing it.
"Your friends… you said they would help you? With anything?"
Bernice nodded. "But I don't want to get them involved if I don't have to."
"Well, I'm telling you right now, Bernice: we've no choice. If they are as well trained as you have been saying—"
"They are."
"Then I'll need some contact information. I'll send for them."
Bernice shook her head. "They won't respond to you at all."
"Why not?"
"Because you're Pure… I'm going to have to do it, but before I do, my family needs to be safe."
*/*
Hermione walked along the path which looped around the masterpieces that the previous Lady Malfoys had created. She studied each one, deep in thought, trying to understand what was being expressed in the designs.
Draco wanted her to start on her own as soon as she was willing. He had told her that it would show him how serious she was with her role as his wife.
She noticed two Lady Malfoys had never got around to theirs. She didn't want her space in the oversized garden to be bare.
Hermione sadly looked at one piece created by Draco's great-grandmother. She had made a statue of a crying woman who was surrounded by several child-like angels. A statue of a man very much resembling Draco stood behind the female one, sneering down at the angels.
Hermione really didn't want to understand what that was about. She feared she wouldn't like the story.
Narcissa's masterpiece, which was right next to Hermione's, was a lovely one with charmed, wooden, carved birds swooping right above bushes of different coloured flowers; most of the flowers were white and blue.
Hermione didn't know what she wanted to do with hers just yet. She sat down on a stone bench that allowed her to look off in the green field, thinking about what she could do to leave behind for her children to look at one day and remember her after she was well and gone.
Something happy. That was a for certain. She was happy right now, and Hermione wanted to show it.
She sat back, closing her eyes, relaxed. The sun was out, and it was a nice Spring day, curing anything and everything that had cabin fever. Birds sung happily, branches with fresh new leaves swayed in a calming breeze, soothing Hermione into a sleep.
"I went out into the garden today," she told Draco quietly at dinner after he had asked what she did while he was out.
"Excellent. Have you made any decisions about it yet, or is it too soon?"
Hermione shook her head. "Much too soon. I'm also not so sure how much I can do without magic; I'd surely hate for my piece in the garden to be dull in comparison to all the previous Ladies of the Manor." With her Muggleborn status, that was enough to make the situation uncomfortable for her; Hermione didn't add that specific detail, not wanting her husband to be reminded of what she was. She already had something to prove with that alone. Besides her blood type, she had a terrible green thumb, and it was worse without magic.
"Bobby can do whatever you need." Draco looked at her and placed his fork into his mouth, chewing the lettuce thoroughly. He seemed to be expecting her to say something.
"I suppose that will work." She had been hoping for a wand, feeling naked without it, but if he didn't want her having one, then she wouldn't bother him about it. And Bobby could do what she needed done. Though, it seemed redundant to have an elf do it when she could herself.
Mudbloods aren't allowed to use wands anymore, she reminded herself.
It was unfair to be treated less than a house elf.
She looked down in shame at her plate of dinner, no longer hungry, feeling disgusted with herself.
"What's wrong?" her husband asked, sounded troubled. "Is your meal alright? If not, I'll have another one cooked to your satisfaction."
"The meal is fine, thank you," Hermione mumbled, hastily shoving something into her mouth so he wouldn't think otherwise.
His fork dropped, clanking against the plate. "You will tell me what's bothering you. There's no other reason to avoid my eyes if you're not hiding something—tell me what it is, now."
Hermione's eyes flickered up to meet Draco's, and she swallowed at the intense look he was giving her.
"I'm just sorry," she told him hoarsely. "I'm ashamed of myself; my blood." Then she looked away again, tears flooding her eyes.
"I do not want you to ever bring that up again, understand?"
She nodded, taking a moment to wipe a teardrop off her face.
"Now look at me, wife," Draco ordered in a tone that she knew better than to argue with. He was giving her a dead serious look. "The Dark Lord assigned us together, neither of us had a choice in the matter, but it had to be done for the future of our being. Your status before our marriage, be it blood or any other, shall no longer be acknowledged. You're my wife, Lady Malfoy, and will be until you are no longer breathing."
"But it was only yesterday that you called me a Mudblood. It has been your name for me since I arrived here…"
"That is true," Draco admitted. "But that was also because you fought me with all your might, but now, because you had willingly kissed me last night, starting off our lovely, wild night as a real married couple, you let the spell take over your feelings, just as I have; it is allowing me to overlook your defects, and it's stronger now that you've accepted your fate, making our feelings mutual. This is what the Dark Lord wants of us."
"Okay," she said when she gave his words a thought over. "I won't make you angry anymore."
"I would hope not. And I have no plans to make you angry with me."
Hermione sat up straighter, feeling a little better now that she knew what Draco thought about her.
"Are you fine now?" he asked, picking his fork back up.
"Yes, thank you, Draco."
He nodded. "Finish your meal then. After we eat, I'll show you the library; would you like that?"
"Very much so." Her heart skipped with excitement. She wondered what type of books her husband possessed.
After they finished, Draco led Hermione by the hand, tracing his thumb tenderly along her knuckles to his library. He stopped at an arched door with a frosted iron-wright window.
Hermione gasped at the design, completely in awe at the detail of it.
"It's lovely, isn't it?"
"Oh, it's just beautiful, Draco!"
Draco stepped forward to open it for her, pushing the door inward. It creaked loudly, revealing the room. Hermione's jaw dropped at the size of it, unable to define its parameter, as the other side of the room appeared to have no end.
Her wide eyes scanned the room, absorbing the pine coloured shelves of books. She aimlessly wandered, not having any clue as to where she should start.
It was unarguably the biggest library she had ever been in.
"Do you like it?" Draco asked behind her.
"Oh, Draco!" She spun around, racing to him and wrapping her arms around Draco in a hug. "It's the best one I've ever been in! Thank you for granting me access!"
"This is yours now too," he told her, petting back her frizzy, wild hair.
Hermione had no idea what to say! All her life she had wanted a home library, and not one even as massive as this one was, and now… she had it. Her very own, full of magical books she had yet to even know titles of and large, comfy chairs to snuggle up in!
She pulled from Draco, grinning brightly, and walked to the nearest shelf to find a hoard of books to start reading, unaware that her husband was complacently watching her every move.

AN: So Hermione's in a complete daze about Draco, literally in agreement with practically anything he wants of her; what can this mean for our heroine? Will she be saved? Will she save herself? What does her future have in store? Though, have no fear, our favourite character has not lost her spark.
Bernie is teetering on a very dangerous slope. And Neville is building up his own army right under Voldemort's-- oh... right... Voldemort has no nose...
Things are start to unfold! Until next time, readers!

Review Responses:
Many of your reviews didn't show up, I don't know what happened with the site during that time. A shame I didn't get to see what you thought about my story/recent chapters! :( I appreciate your support though, you guys rock!

wintercocis:
For Draco to change in a 180, it would totaly take longer than 2-3 weeks, I'd say. Well, their relationship could go in many different ways, we'll have to see :)
Koi:
Ha, so happy to read that you're enjoying the story. I can just hear the gears rolling around your head, trying to figure out everything :)
From ANON - on June 26, 2016 " Omg! I'm so happy you updated. "
Hey, silversal, I don't think you have too much to worry, there's plenty of shit that's going to happen before the story is over. And it's NOT over yet!
From ANON - on June 26, 2016 "Ch 21 - Naughty Draco... "
I know... that was an aweful thing to do, but I made him do that to show what he is capable of-- he's no angel, afterall.
TitanyaStark:
Yes, me too. Gotta love a master at manipulation!
From ANON - on July 16, 2016 "I love your writing! "
Awww, thanks so much **hearts**
FyrefiendBeauty:
Mmm, you're in for a little surprise then... But fear not, she is not gone forever-- just remember, she's not REALLY herself right now!
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His Relinquishment