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. |
Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror. The midnight blue and purple gown glittered in the flickering light of the candles and, as she turned slowly, the gown looked like a wave was rippling through it. It was formfitting to her waist and flared out at her hips. The dipping ‘V’ in her neckline was accented with real diamonds and the back of the dress swooped down to just above her buttocks with strings of diamonds crisscrossing up her back. A glittering tiara sat delicately atop her head. Ginny had helped her put makeup on that accented her features, bringing out the color of her eyes.
“Do you think this is too dark for a Spring banquet?” Hermione asked doubtfully.
Ginny sniffed and shook her head, but it was Pansy who had answered, “If you were just some ordinary schoolgirl off to her first Spring formal, then sure. It would be too dark. However, you are the heiress of Merlin, and as such, you need to show your pride in your heritage. Not to mention, the banquet is at night and I doubt anyone is going to be dressed in sundresses or anything really light.”
Ginny snorted as Luna glided into the room at that moment wearing a canary yellow dress decorated with feathers. Her high heels had yellow flowers on the top of them and at the back of the heel. “Oh, Luna,” Ginny greeted with a smile.
“Do you like it?” the blonde haired girl asked. “It is lovely, isn’t it? I know Mrs. Malfoy didn’t want me to get it, but I simply couldn’t leave without it.”
Pansy’s face dropped when she saw what the girl was wearing. “You should have,” she said. “You look childish. You can’t go out there like that! People will think you’re Theo’s kid sister, not his girlfriend and certainly not his bride-to-be.”
Luna stopped and looked at the Slytherin. “But he’s already seen it,” she responded. “I showed it to him the day I bought it and told him I was going to wear it for the banquet. He said it was fine.”
Hermione glanced back at the mirror. “Maybe I should wear a lighter color,” she commented, mostly to herself. “There was a white gown Mrs. Malfoy had purchased for me that I think would be much more appropriate for the occasion.”
Ginny watched her as Hermione walked back to the closet, her hands at the clasp behind her neck and undoing the dress. “Try not to ruin your hair,” she called out as the Muggle born disappeared.
Pansy threw her hands up in the air. “I give up,” she huffed. “Seventeen years of careful schooling about fashion and nobody even listens to anything I say. Why do I even bother? Granger, if you’re going to go that route, wear the one with the sweetheart top.”
“That’s the one I was going for,” the brunette hollered back.
The dress Hermione stepped out in this time had tank straps joined by sheer off-the shoulder straps supporting a fitted bodice with a plunging sweetheart neckline. The empire waistline had a stunning floor-length maxi that had a slit that started mid-thigh. At the center of her bodice was a dazzling emerald and diamond brooch with 28 pear-shaped emeralds surrounded by over a hundred diamonds.
“Alright,” Pansy breathed as the heiress turned on spot to show them the dress. “I stand corrected. Hermione, you look gorgeous and Draco is going to melt when he sees you.”
“Ronald Weasley, eat your heart out,” Ginny added with a devilish smirk.
(II)(II)
The plan was simple. Draco would stand in the foyer with Harry Potter and greet guests. What he wanted to do was punch Potter in the face. While his father’s colleagues and business partners greeted him fairly, most only had eyes on the Scarhead, completely ignoring Draco until he would push himself up next to Potter and introduce himself.
“Ah, Mr. Eikman, what a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” was the standard introduction, usually with a response similar to something like, “Oh, well… Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Malfoy. I hear you’ve taken over the estate. That’s a good lad.” Or some rendition of it. He shook hands with various people he was sure would forget his name at some point in the evening, except, he wouldn’t let them.
Aside from taking over the estate, Draco was also betrothed to Hermione Granger, the heiress of Merlin. “Is it true, Mr. Malfoy? Is Miss Granger the heiress?” one elderly lady had asked.
Draco smiled pleasantly at the woman. “That is the rumor,” he answered. “All will be revealed tonight, however, Mrs. Bandicoot.”
He was shaking hands with the Minister of Magic when Theodore came running down the stairs. “Malfoy,” he called, causing Draco to turn on his heel and look at his friend. Potter turned his attention to them as well as Theo skidded to a halt in front of Draco and grabbed his shoulder desperately. Leaning closely to Draco, he gasped, “You need to come quick. You and Potter. I think Granger’s having a meltdown.”
“Excuse me, Minister,” Draco said to the black man apologetically before hurrying up the stair with his friend. He didn’t bother to see if Potter was following him, knowing the bespectacled Gryffindork would be more than concerned over Granger.
When they entered the suite, Draco looked around frantically. “Where is she?” he asked.
“In your bedroom,” Luna answered. “I think she’s having a bad reaction to the Wrackspurts. Did you know that your room is home to…?”
But he wasn’t listening anymore. Pushing passed the blond witch, he went into his room and found Hermione sitting at the vanity. Kneeling beside her was the Weasley girl while Pansy stood off to the side with her arms folded, looking mildly annoyed.
“Princess?” Draco said softly as he approached. He placed a calming hand on her shoulder and knelt down beside the ginger haired girl to look up at his future bride. “Darling, what’s wrong?”
Hermione sat with her hands in her lap, clutching a tissue. Her head was bowed as tears flowed freely down her eyes. She shook her head. “I can’t do this,” she coughed. “I can’t be her.” She stared at him with her large, brown eyes. “Draco, there must be some mistake. Maybe something went faulty at St. Mungo’s and my blood results got mixed with someone else? It happens.”
The wizard glanced at the girl kneeling by his side. “Where is this coming from?” he asked, but the girl just shrugged.
“I think she’s just nervous,” Ginger said, looking at her friend apprehensively. “She was fine a moment ago.”
Draco pinched his lips together and turned back to his bride. “Darling,” he said, touching her cheek and moving her face to look at him. “Sweetheart, look at me. It’s going to be alright,” he told her soothingly. “There is no reason to be nervous or frightened.”
“But what if -?”
“Shh, shh,” he whispered, placing his fingertips over her lips. “You are the heiress of Merlin. It’s been proven. No one made a mistake, you are her. No one else in this world has the brain capacity that you do. At least, no one living.”
She looked down at her hands. “I’m a mess,” she complained. “Your parents are going to hate me when they see me like this.”
Draco scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he told her. “My parents love you, you know that. Now, let’s get you cleaned up so we can enjoy this feast in your honor.”
“But it’s not in my honor,” she argued. “These people don’t give a damn about me. They just want to hear me confirm my lineage so they can pester me with interviews and proposals.”
Potter joined them on Hermione’s other side and put a hand on her shoulder. “They do that to me all the time,” he told her.
“No one is going to propose to you,” Draco added. “After it’s been revealed that you are, in fact, Merlin’s heiress, we will announce our engagement.”
Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, he pulled out a small black box. Inside the box sat a diamond ring. The large, round diamond was set in the middle and had to be no less than two carats. The white gold band had wispy vines that surrounded the diamond with ruby and emerald gems entwined around one another. Hermione’s eyes widened as she looked down at it. “Drac…”
“I should have done this ages ago, but, well, honestly, I didn’t know if you’d agree to it, however,” he readjusted his stance so that he was on one knee as he looked up into her sparkling honey eyes. “Hermione Granger, I can’t promise you that I will always be perfect. We all have our flaws. But with you by my side, I know we can get through anything, weather any storm. I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you, though we’d come from two different worlds and I denied it for years. Your beauty through these years has only become more accented by your mind and heart. It has taken me a long time to buck up the courage to do this for your fire is fiercer than a dragon’s. So, I’m humbly asking you in front of your closest friends and mine: Not as a boy infatuated with your heritage, but as a man so deeply and madly in love with you, will you wear my ring and be my wife?”
Her cheeks had already been stained with tears. Her mascara leaving black lines down her face. But those tears came anew as she sniffed and nodded her head. “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, a thousand times, yes!”
She threw her arms around his neck as she fell on top of him in happiness. He laughed as he took the ring from the box and placed it on her left ring finger. She held it up to the light to look at it properly. “Oh, sweet Merlin, it’s gorgeous!” Giddy, she showed the ring to an eager red headed girl and then to Harry. Her eyes shined as they fell back onto Draco and she kissed him deeply. “This!” she told him. “You don’t know how badly I needed this.”
He smirked. “Well, if that was all it took, maybe I should have bought the bloody thing earlier,” he teased. “Now, has your Gryffindor courage found its way back into your bloodstream? Ready to face the masses?”
She paused and looked at him hesitantly. “You’ll stay by my side, won’t you?” she asked.
His smirk softened into a genuine smile as he kissed her forehead and looked down into her eyes. “Always, princess,” he promised. “Always and forever.”
(III)(III)
The grand entrance Narcissa had meticulously planned did not go quite as she had expected it to. Instead of Hermione walking down the stairs alone and self-confident, the girl had Draco on her arm. Behind them, Harry Potter led his fiancée, and behind him, Theodore and Luna rounded it up. Blaise stood at the bottom of the stair with his wife by his side at one banister while Ron and his bride-to-be stood at the other banister.
The five couples led a small procession into the dining hall and continued to the head table. Hermione glanced about, startled at how Narcissa had transformed the dining hall. A long white table, the one Draco was leading them to, sat to the far back of the hall, causing everyone to have to turn to look at the approaching couples. Instead of more long tables, Narcissa had set out several smaller round tables about the hall in a purposeful pattern. All the tables were covered in pristine white tablecloths and had small white triangles atop the fine dishware. Glancing closer at the triangles, Hermione noticed they had names written on them and rightfully guessed that Narcissa had assigned seats to each person.
She found her own name in the middle of the long table, with Draco’s name on one side and her father’s name on the other. Yes, careful planning, indeed. Those who were close to Hermione were seated on her side, while those for Draco were seated on his side. At the long table, aside from Hermione and Draco and their respective parents, Narcissa made room for Harry, Ginny (Ginevra), Ron (Ronald), Lavender, Blaise, Padma, Theodore, and Luna. Remus, Tonks, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall were placed at the round table closest to Hermione while Professor Snape, Pansy, and Pucey were at the table closest to Draco.
The room filled in quickly. Tears were in Jean’s eyes when she saw her daughter. “Hermione, you look so beautiful,” she cried as she leaned in and gave the Muggle born a kiss on the cheek. “And you look positively glowing! Oh, my sweet baby girl has grown up.”
Hermione beamed, soaking in the affectionate praise. Her father eyed her for a moment, his dark eyes catching the glitter on her finger. “What’s that?” he asked, taking her left hand into his and looking at it.
It was then that the brightest witch remembered that she had meant to tell her parents about what was going on. She gave a guilty smile as she shot Draco a sympathetic look. “It’s… Well, something I need to tell you about a bit later. Can’t really discuss it here,” she muttered, blushing sheepishly.
Her mother looked at the ring as well. “That doesn’t look like something that you should wait to tell us,” she commented, her eyes going from the ring to Hermione and then Draco and back again.
For his part, Draco didn’t look the least bit concerned over their reactions. He felt his father’s hand on his shoulder and stood proud and strong. “I know neither of you had wished it,” he said, “but I couldn’t hold back any longer. I love your daughter and I want to be with her for the rest of our lives. Just because we’re together doesn’t mean she has to give up on her dreams.”
The Gryffindor looked pleadingly at her parents. “He’s right,” she pressed. “We’re already planning on finishing school before we marry anyway. And we don’t have to have children right away, in fact, I don’t even want children right away.”
“Yeah? Where do you plan on going to school after Hogwarts, Mr. Malfoy?” Richard asked the boy, glaring at him.
Draco hesitated. In all honesty, he hadn’t planned on attending school after he graduated. He wrinkled his brow as he began, “My family comes from old wealth. All you see around you has been inherited throughout the ages. Technically I don’t need to attend any schooling after I graduate. However, I will be undergoing extensive training and learning into the family business. Father may be a politician, but there is more to our wealth than climbing up that ladder. These grounds as well as property we own elsewhere are home to various smaller businesses we own, many of which you probably wouldn’t be able to grasp the concept of. The Malfoy family manufactures everything from potions to the ingredients needed to make said potions.”
“Draco,” his father spoke up, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Now is hardly the time to discuss business.” The blond teen looked up at his father to see him staring at the Muggles. Lucius gave them a deceptively kind smile. “Perhaps in the morning you and I can have a private meeting, Mr. Granger, to discuss all that being a Malfoy entails. Rest assured, however, that Draco will learn it all. He will have to if he’s too take it all over when I’m gone. For the year after they graduate, Hermione will be learning all the things she’ll need to know about being a Malfoy wife, which, coincidentally, is some of what she needs to know anyway given her newfound personal wealth. Of course, she’ll also need to learn the ins and outs of finance, which I intend to provide for her. And, as she has said, she will be attending a university as well, if she so chooses.”
Richard glanced at his daughter. She gave him an apologetic shrug. “I’m sorry I didn’t discuss this with you sooner,” she said contritely. “There’s been so much going on, I’ve hardly had a chance to breathe much less think beyond the moment. Thing is, I love Draco, too. I love him so very, very much. And I want to spend my life with him, the rest of my life.”
Her mother stared at her daughter for a moment, processing the new information. “Are you absolutely certain you know what you’re doing? You’re sure that this is what you want and that you will still be finishing school?” she asked slowly.
Despite the misgivings she had had in the past, Hermione thought about the Vow that Draco had made. With all the confidence of a queen, the girl nodded her head. “Yes, I do,” she answered.
Her father glared at the boy. “You’ll support her every endeavor? You won’t hurt her, no matter how angry you get with her? You’ll protect her from all the evils in the world?” Though they were posed as questions, Draco could hear the demands in the Muggle’s voice.
He bowed his head. “Only death will prevent my protection of her,” he replied, truthfully. “She has my full support in all she does and I will never harm her.”
The man continued to glare at the teenager for a moment before finally accepting the proclamation and sitting down. Draco looked at his betrothed curiously as she showed her mother the ring. “It’s quite simple, isn’t it?” her mother commented as she looked to Draco. “With all the white peacocks and grandeur, I would’ve expected something larger, more detailed, and showered in diamonds.”
“The peacocks belong to my father,” he answered. “I hate those stupid birds and if were my decision, we would be feasting on them tonight.”
Lucius made a sound somewhere between a snort and a huff. “Those birds have been on these grounds since before you were born,” he commented as goblets of wine appeared before them. “They are symbols of nobility.”
“Yeah?” the younger Slytherin snarked. “And I’ve heard they taste like chicken.”
Narcissa covered the grin on her lips with her fingertips as Hermione giggled. “They are actually a bird that you can eat,” Hermione said. “It’s a relative of the pheasant, after all, and…”
“Our peacocks are off the menu,” Lucius said tersely, looking perturbed at Draco’s smug face.
The teenager gave a malicious grin. “No, Father,” he muttered. “No one would ever dream of cooking your precious pets.”
Lucius glowered. “Is this going to be how it is all night?” he asked. “I thought this was meant to be a celebration and revelation.”
The blonde, proud witch touched her husband’s shoulder. “He’s just teasing you, darling,” she assured him. “He would never harm those peacocks.”
“She’s right,” Hermione added. “I would hex him if he tried.”
Lucius put his glass down and gave the girl a funny look. “You would do that?” he asked carefully. “Hex my son for harming the peacocks?” His eyes studied her as she shrugged.
“Why not?” she replied. “If the peacocks mean so much to you… There’s nothing wrong with having pets. Honestly, I’d go mad if someone threatened Crookshanks in such a way, especially if they were serious. And I have no doubt that even Harry would feel the same if one were to harm Hedwig.” Her eyes wandered over to her best friend who stared at her.
Raising his hands in surrender, Harry commented, “No need to drag me into this, but she’s right. I would be devastated.”
“Sweet Merlin,” Draco muttered. “I make one comment and you lot gang up on me. It was a joke, alright? No one’s going to eat your bloody chickens.” He glowered at Lucius.
After a moment longer of looking at Hermione thoughtfully, Lucius straightened up, checked that his silverware was in order, and stood. Lifting his arms, the people in the room began to quiet down. Despite being a Death Eater, or former Death Eater as Hermione liked to think, Lucius Malfoy still held enough power to command the attention of everyone in the room.
He did not bother with a projection spell, instead, he simply spoke and people listened. Cameras from the audience flashed as witches and wizards from the Prophet and Witch Weekly’s magazine hung on the edge of their seats. “On this glorious April day, we celebrate more than simply the switching of the seasons,” the patriarch said, the sound of his voice drawing a hush over the crowd. “There have been many rumours spreading about, inspired by newfound information. It is here that the record shall be set straight.” He looked at Hermione and pressed his lips together. “Will you please stand, Miss Granger?”
Hermione looked anxiously at Draco. Now she understood how Harry had felt when his name was drawn from the Goblet of Fire. Taking a deep breath, she did as she was asked, feeling a blush begin to warm up her cheeks.
“It is with great honour that I am pleased to introduce to you all, Miss Hermione Jean Granger, the one and true heiress of Merlin,” the Malfoy patriarch stated.
The buzz about the room was near deafening as cameras flashed some more and there were even questions being shouted, though Hermione had no idea what anyone was saying. She felt Draco’s hand slip into hers and give her a reassuring squeeze. Her father placed a hand upon her back and she smiled nervously at the people before her. Her eyes fell upon Lucius and she could see he was waiting for something.
She glanced at Snape, who gave her a bored glare and realization hit. “Oh!” she gasped. Her smile widened as she laughed lightly. “A speech. I forgot,” she proclaimed. She wrinkled her nose coyly, “Leave it to a descendant of Merlin to forget to say something,” she teased, drawing a few laughs from those nearby.
Taking out her wand, she cast a quick Sonorous spell. “Sorry, I fear I am not quite as loud or commanding as Mr. Malfoy or my teachers,” she commented sheepishly, bringing even more laughter from her audience. Lucius said nothing, just raised a single brow while Dumbledore gave her an amused smile, a twinkle in his eyes.
She glanced at Harry for a moment before turning her attention back to the rest of the audience. “For those that do not know, both of my parents are Muggles. When I was younger, I was told stories of witches and wizards, magical beasts in far off lands, and a world where magic and sorcery was simply a way of life. Movies like Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast helped shape much of my childhood, though it was in books that I really began to learn about the type of person I wanted to be. At the age of eleven, about a month, maybe two, before the start of term, Professor Minerva McGonagall came to my home and informed me that the things I could do without even trying were just the beginning. Since then, I have been immersed into this world where magic and mystic are, indeed, real. Never in my wildest dreams did I believe I would be related to someone as important to the Magical Community as Merlin.
“See? The Muggles know who Merlin is as well,” she continued, gaining confidence as she spoke. “Only, not all believe he was a real person. Many only know him from legend linked with King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. They don’t know that he was a Slytherin or that he had truly done great things. They know him as a wise, noble person and not as a man whom had been the father of two children, a boy many of us have heard of, and a girl who was unfortunate enough to be born a Squib. And now, here I stand. The descendant of that girl and the first magical person to be born from that bloodline since the days of Merlin.”
There was applause throughout the dining hall and she glanced at Lucius who gave her a soft, tight-lipped smile. And then the questions started coming in from reporters: “How did you discover that you were the heiress of Merlin?” “What made you decide to check?” “Is it true that you now own a castle?” “Will you be holding a debutante ball?” “Have people begun to petition for you?”
Hermione blinked and looked nervously at Lucius. The man held his hand up and the crowd quieted again. “Miss Granger would be more than happy to answer your questions,” he told them, “however, there is another announcement we would like to make this evening.”
Hermione squeezed Draco’s fingers and he returned the gesture. “For the past few months, my son, Draco Malfoy, has been dating Miss Granger,” Lucius continued. Draco stood at the mention of his name, grasping Hermione’s hand entirely and smiling down at her. “I am pleased to announce that Miss Granger has accepted my son’s proposal of marriage.”
Draco gazed at the crowd wordlessly. He lifted up his hand, still holding Hermione’s, for all to see as a round of applause echoed throughout the room. Someone in the far back even stood up and whistled, shouting, “Yeah!” Draco’s line of vision zeroed in on the person, picking out a boy he recognized, but couldn’t remember the name of.
For her part, Hermione simply smiled as she dispelled the Sonorous. She glanced down at her parents to see her mother smiling as well, though her father didn’t look happy in the slightest. This made the Muggle born’s smile falter a bit, knowing her father was unhappy over these announcements. She looked back up as Lucius announced dinner and food magically appeared upon their plates.
Draco coaxed the witch to sit back down as she looked at the food curiously. “Shouldn’t we have eaten before the announcements?” Hermione asked as she picked up her fork.
“Perhaps,” her betrothed said, “but it’s better this way. Gives the masses something to think over while they eat.”
“But I didn’t answer any questions,” the bushy haired girl muttered.
“You will,” Lucius told her. “And you’ll find yourself repeating the same answers.”
“Was this really necessary?” Richard asked as he glared at Lucius. “My daughter isn’t some shiny new prize to be polished and shown off to everyone on God’s green Earth.”
Lucius raised an eyebrow. “It’s been over a month now since Miss Granger has learned of her descent,” he informed the Muggle. “Since then, she has been blasted with owls and proposals coming from all over the country and even from the continent. There’s even been a few Howlers, though mostly directed towards my son, whom many have claimed is just hoarding your daughter and keeping other boys from approaching her.”
“Which I have,” Draco pointed out. “But only because we’re dating and I’m in love with her.”
“Tonight was quite necessary, Mr. Granger, I assure you,” Lucius said. “Now that the world knows who she is and that she is, indeed, betrothed, they won’t plague her with such letters anymore and my son can actually get his hearing back.”
Jean frowned. “I’m sorry, but what is a Howler?” she questioned.
Hermione thought quickly. “It’s… well, it’s an angry letter that comes through the post. When the intended person opens the letter, it magically becomes animated and starts screaming at the receiver in an amplified voice meant to embarrass the receiver. Once it’s finished screaming, it tears itself up.”
“Oh, good Lord,” the Muggle woman breathed. “And people have been sending you these things because you’re dating my daughter?”
Draco shrugged. “She’s worth it,” he said as he took another bite of his green beans.
“But you didn’ always tink dat,” Ron said with a mouth full of good.
“Ronald!” both Lavender and Ginny scolded in unison.
“Wha?” he asked, his mouth hanging opened.
Lavender popped him on his arm. “Close your mouth, you’re embarrassing yourself,” she ordered. When he snapped his mouth shut, she continued, “Now swallow your food before you speak. We’ve been over this. We aren’t cave animals who lack manners and tact, and I will not have you teach our child such disgusting habits.”
Mrs. Granger smiled at the girl pleasantly. “I am so pleased that you’ve forgiven my daughter,” she commented, making Lavender glance at her curiously. “And to see that the two of you remained friends enough for her to allow you to sit at this table. And you kept the child, too!” She threw her daughter a warm smile.
Confused, Lavender glanced at her boyfriend before setting her gaze back on the Muggle woman. “Hermione has helped me out so much, making sure I get to my classes and taking notes for me on days that I miss. I don’t know what I would do without her. I’m lucky that she was there that day in Dumbledore’s office. I was so close to aborting my own baby, but now I know I’ll be alright, especially since Hermione’s been helping me.”
Hermione could feel the blood had left her face and she couldn’t look her mother in the eye. “Hermione Jean,” the woman reprimanded. “You never told her, did you?”
“Never told me what?” Lavender asked at the same time Hermione had said, “I didn’t see the point. She was already past the time when it would have mattered.”
There was only one time the girl had ever seen her mother angry and it had been on Boxing Day years ago. Hermione had gotten a book about space for Christmas and thought it would be a good idea to fly. The young witch couldn’t explain how she had gotten atop the roof, nor could she figure out how to get down. It was months later when Minerva McGonagall showed up on their doorstep and handed Hermione her letter.
Setting her jaw, Mrs. Granger turned to Lavender. “I hate to be the one to inform you, my dear girl,” she started, ignoring her daughter’s protests, “but my daughter has lied to you. You were never in any danger had you chosen to abort the baby. She only said you were because she was angry over what you and Mr. Weasley had done.”
Hermione bit her lower lip and looked away as Harry and Ron stared at her. “What did you tell her?” Ron asked, forgetting the food on his fork in the moment.
Tears were already falling from Lavender’s eyes. “How could you?” she breathed.
Hermione shot her a glare at that. “Really? How could you?” she retorted angrily. “You knew Ron and I were dating. You knew I liked him, and I liked him a lot. He was my friend before you ever even glanced his way. And you had heard me talking about him more than once up in those blasted dormitories. ‘Who do you want to marry, Hermione?’ you had asked me. And what was my answer?... You knew it and you still went with him into the boys’ dormitory and proceeded to shag him like some boyfriend stealing hussy. And then, when you find out that your pregnant, you have the nerve to come to me for advice?! How daft can you be? Did you think I would just roll over and let you trample on me like a spot of grass?”
“I thought that you would be more understanding,” Lavender said as she stood up. “And what are you complaining about? You’ve got Malfoy and we all knew it was him you really wanted. We saw the way you two would look at each other and banter back and forth, it was only a matter of time before you started dating. I thought you were my friend, Hermione.”
The Muggle born’s eyes widened at the mention of her liking Draco. Thinking back on it, she couldn’t recall actually liking him before that night at the party back in October. Did she? Sure, they argued a lot, but that was only because they were both vying to be the best in their year. And he… “I thought you were mine, too,” Hermione said, looking back at Lavender. “And if you ‘knew’ I was actually interested in Draco, you should have spoken to me. You should have urged me down a different route instead of shagging my boyfriend.”
“Would you have listened?” the girl challenged. “You were in so much denial, I’m surprised you didn’t create a river. If Ginny hadn’t been able to talk you into going to that party that night… And you know she wouldn’t’ve if you thought that you and Ron still had a chance.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you had planned on me catching you so I would go to that party?”
Rolling her eyes, Lavender shook her head. “No, but it was a nice coincidence. Besides, you’re with Malfoy now. And you were with him when I found out I was pregnant. You had no reason to lie to me, Hermione.”
“Why didn’t you fact check what I had said?” the Muggle born asked, folding her arms.
The blonde stared at the brunette in awe. “Because you’re Hermione Granger,” she said, pointing at the other girl accusingly. “I haven’t checked anything you’ve said since our second year because you’re always right. There’s never been a reason for me to not believe you.”
“I suppose this means you’ll learn how to start fact checking, regardless of what I say,” Hermione replied as she tilted her head up a bit. As the girl continued to stare at her, shocked, she finally sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I lied to you. Honestly, in that moment I was still angered about what you and Ron had done, and to think that you were going to try and get off scott-free by aborting your baby, I just… It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair. You’ve never had a problem getting a boyfriend before, why did you have to go after mine? And you knew there was history between him and me.”
“Yeah, so much history,” Lavender huffed loudly.
Lucky for the feuding witches, Severus Snape had secretly cast a Muffliato around the long table and the two closest to it. Everyone else in the vicinity was happily enjoying their meals and the reporters were none the wiser. Those who could hear the teenage spat, looked at the two girls with varying degrees of anger, annoyance, and angst. Though, Dumbledore absently continued to eat his food as though nothing was going on.
“So much history that you refused to sleep with Ron when he asked you too, and then as soon as you see him actually getting some, you run off to the Slytherin Common Room and give Draco Malfoy, who, by the way, up until that point was supposedly one of your biggest rivals and enemies, a blow job. Makes you wonder just how much of that was a load of bullshit to hide your true feelings for him,” Lavender snarled, tears filling her eyes. “If anything, you should be on your knees thanking me!”
“Thanking you?” Hermione repeated with a snort. “For what exactly? You didn’t just ruin my relationship with Ron, you almost ruined my friendship with him, too! And I was not hiding my feelings for Draco. I hadn’t even thought of him in that sense until that night! We were rivals and enemies.”
“Hermione,” a voice said, touching her shoulder.
The brunette whirled to find Draco standing behind her. Tears filled her own eyes at the break of the argument. She faced the girl again, to see fresh tears rolling down the girl’s cheeks, unchecked. “I love Draco, yes,” the Muggle born said with a catch in her voice. “But I had loved Ron so much. Ever since the day I had met him, I had fancied Ron. You knew that. You could have had anyone, Lavender. Maybe things wouldn’t have worked out between Ron and me, but you didn’t even give us a chance.”
“I did,” the blond Gryffindor argued. “You two had been dating all summer…”
“No,” Hermione corrected, “It wasn’t until the train ride to Hogwarts that he had finally asked me. Summer had been spent mourning the death of Sirius Black and getting his name cleared finally. Not to mention, helping to hunt Death Eaters and sitting in Death Eater trials.”
“And yet you’re marrying a Death Eater,” Lavender pointed out.
Draco glared at the witch. Thrusting out his arm, he pulled up his sleeve. “Do you see a Mark, Brown?” he growled. “Check your facts before you go off assuming, bitch.”
“Draco!” his mother scolded. “Language!”
Lavender folded her arms above her belly. “Maybe you’re not, but I know for a fact that your father is!”
“A decision I will regret for the rest of my life,” Lucius said softly. He remained sitting, looking down at his plate of barely touched food. Feeling his wife take his hand into hers under the table, he glanced at her and gave a half-hearted smile. Wiping the smile off, he looked at Lavender. “The mistakes of the youth are vast and full of regret, Miss Brown. I have a scar on my arm that will forever remind me of my biggest mistake. Don’t let this child be yours. Regardless of what Miss Granger may have done, or her reasons for doing so, you will still bear a living, breathing human in a few short weeks. That will be a blessing and should be loved as such.”
“I do love my child,” Lavender protested. “But that doesn’t mean I have to love that!” She pointed to Hermione. She turned on her heel and ran out of the hall.
Narcissa stood up and grabbed her son’s arm. “Draco, go get her,” she ordered. “If she wanders this Manor in her state, there’s no telling what could happen.”
“I’ll go get her,” Ron said, standing up. “Send Malfoy to her and she’s liable to hex him.”
“You can’t wander the Manor alone, Weasel,” Draco drawled. “I’ll let you come with me, but if you go by yourself, the Manor will see you as a threat.”
Ron looked at him curiously, but shrugged and followed the blond Slytherin out of the hall.
(IV)(IV)
Hermione flopped back into her seat, glaring at her plate and muttering as she pushed her food around with her fork. Of all the nerve of that girl! Yes, it was wrong of her to lie to Lavender, but to think that Hermione would want to honestly be friends with someone who stole her boyfriend… The word “daft” could hardly describe her.
“Hermione?” her mother asked, looking at the girl. “Hermione, is what Miss Brown said true? Did you give Draco a blow job?”
The Muggle born clamped her mouth shut and stared at her mother like a deer in headlights. Sucking in her bottom lip, she stammered, “Well, I…”
“I don’t mind you having a boyfriend, Hermione,” her mom continued. “You are seventeen and will soon be a grown woman. However, I wasn’t aware that such activities were allowed in the school. Studying and your grades should always come first, not boys.”
“But they do!” Hermione insisted. “I haven’t stopped studying. I still always have all of my work done weeks in advance so all I have to do is edit where I deem necessary. My grades haven’t faltered… And neither has Draco’s. We are first and second in our year, respectively, and Professor Dumbledore even mentioned to us that we were to be Head Girl and Boy next year.”
Mr. Granger glanced over at Professor Dumbledore, who was taking a sip of is wine. “Were you aware of this tomfoolery occurring within your school?” he asked, eying the headmaster.
“Was I aware that Miss Granger and young Mr. Malfoy had personal, intimate relations? One could only imagine that such things would occur when two people who love one another spend time together,” Dumbledore commented after a moment of thought.
“You are taking… precautions, aren’t you, Hermione?” her mother asked uncertainly.
The girl gave a single nod. “Of course. Draco and I are very careful and the school mediwitch gives me a potion each month to protect me from unwanted pregnancies,” she replied.
“You’re condoning this?!” the Muggle man spat, looking contemptuously at his wife.
Jean frowned slightly, glancing at her daughter and then back at her husband. “She is of an age where she can make her own choices in life, and we have raised her to be respectful and strong. If she can carry on such a relationship and maintain her grade point average, I don’t see…”
The man sputtered. “She’s a child, Jean! She hasn’t even finished school yet and we’re already talking about boys and her doing things with them and getting married… I…” he whirled on Hermione. “You told me that you wouldn’t date until you became of age.”
“In the Wizarding World, seventeen is ‘coming of age,’” Lucius muttered, not even bothering to look at the Muggle as he placed a fork of green beans in his mouth.
“Your son defiled my daughter and that is your response?!” the Muggle bellowed.
His eyes shot up to stare at Richard as Lucius carefully chewed his food, swallowed, and dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin. Folding his napkin perfectly and placing it back upon the table next to his plate, he turned his attention back to Richard. “I hardly think Draco ‘defiled’ Miss Granger,” he responded quietly and calmly. “You do not know the specifics of that first arrangement. He neither forced himself on her, nor did he request it.”
Hermione groaned and ran a hand over her face. “Dad, you might want to sit down,” she told him. “Mr. Malfoy may no longer follow the same codes he has his entire life, but he isn’t a saint. Testing him is the same as poking a sleeping tiger.”
“I prefer cobra, if you don’t mind,” Lucius said leaning towards Hermione with a small smirk.
The Muggle born looked at him and frowned. “You would,” she deadpanned.
“Tiger or cobra, I don’t give a damn,” her father snarled. “You are too young, little girl, to be flirting with boys and engaging in such shenanigans!”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
“Mr. Granger, if I may,” Snape cut in, “we are currently at a banquet to honour your daughter and her newfound betrothal. This isn’t the time to be throwing a tantrum because things aren’t going quite the way you had planned it.”
“You need to stay out of it, Mr. Snape,” Richard growled. “She is not your daughter and this is none of your business!”
“When you make a fuss in front of everyone, it becomes their business!” Jean scolded. “He’s right, Richard. All of this fussing needs to be done when we’re not surrounded by a bunch of these people.” She hissed the last two words quietly, but everyone at the long table and the two round tables heard her.
They all stared at her. Hermione could feel the tears in her eyes, but pushed them back. She glanced at her best friend, the boy she considered her brother, and saw a look she never thought she would see. “Harry?”
The boy glanced up at her with a frown. His messy hair seemed to be a bit messier than usual, but Hermione knew that typically happened when he was stressed. “Yeah?”
She looked back down at her plate. “I know you want to say something. You’ve been staring at me since Lavender ran out,” she prompted.
“I’m not entirely sure what it is you expect me to say,” he told her.
“Are you angry with me?”
He pinched his lips together in thought for a moment. Finally, he admitted, “I’m not. I am a bit disappointed, though. You’re better than this, Hermione. I understand that what Ron and Lavender did to you was wrong. I get it. I would have been beside myself if Ginny had ever done something even remotely similar. But… Well, usually I find your drive for vengeance to be a bit funny and justified, like when you led Umbridge through the Forest or when you caught Rita Skeeter. But this? Don’t you think you’ve gone a bit too far?”
She stared at him, furrowing her eyebrows. “What would you have done?”
He took a deep breath. “If the roles were reversed and I had caught Ginny with some bloke? I’d probably sock the git in the face. But you know, you’re already orchestrating the best revenge, right?”
She tilted her head, looking at him. Her eyes widened. “He hates Draco,” she commented.
Harry gave a soft, bemused smile. “Look around you, Hermione,” he suggested. “Not only are you marrying quite possibly the richest bloke in Britain, but you’ve managed to stumble upon your own wealth. I’m not particularly fond of Malfoy myself, but I have to admit that the two of you work well together. Five years of bullying and torment and in a few short months, you’re managing to change Malfoy for the better. He may not see it yet, but he is changing, Hermione.”
She offered him a little smile in return and blushed. “He hasn’t changed that much.”
“He doesn’t bully Neville anymore, he’s been helping younger years with their homework, and not just those in Slytherin, and he’s actually be cordial to Ginny and me. He’s even gone so far as to greet us in the halls at school. And right now, he is searching the Manor for a girl that I know he can barely stand with the help of a boy that he likes even less.” He frowned at that and glanced at the door Ron and Draco had left through. “Speaking of, what’s taking them so long?”
(V)(V)
“Where are we?” Weasel asked as he followed Draco into another hallway.
Draco glanced back at the boy momentarily and rolled his eyes. “Your girlfriend didn’t exactly go in a straight line, now, did she?” he shot back in annoyance. Turning his attention back to the path, he lit his wand and mumbled, “Bloody Gryffindors.”
“That didn’t answer my question,” the ginger groused as he lit his own wand. “And why is it so dark down this way?”
The Slytherin could hear his mother’s reprimand in the back of his mind of how his eyes would grow lazy if he kept rolling them, but he couldn’t help himself. The imbecile was just too idiotic. “What, exactly, would be the point in keeping the lights on throughout the Manor if people are only going to be in the party rooms?” he returned irritably. “Use that head of yours, Weaselbee, and think. No one is supposed to be over here.”
“How can you be sure Lavender even came this way?” pressed the thorn in Draco’s side.
“It’s my Manor,” the blond responded. He waved his wand at the walls. “It tells me the paths people take and alerts me if or when something happens.”
“Yet it didn’t ‘tell’ you that your friend had been killed,” the Weasel observed as he looked at the walls.
“She never left my suite,” Draco pointed out. “Also, she was one of the few ‘outsiders’ that the Manor recognized and considered family.” He shined his wand down a particular corridor and paused. Shaking his head, he continued forward and said, “There are few people that can walk these halls without worry. Those whom have been friends of the family for as long as the Greengrasses have been are one of them, though even then, the Manor remains alert to their presence. Daphne was too young to join my parents in their little after party, so she had remained in my suite. From what I know, she and Blaise had shared a room, but they had a row. I took the liberty of pulling my own memory of that night so Hermione and I could compare the two, but things remain the same.”
“If Zabini was the one she was having a row with, why don’t you get his memory of that night?” the Gryffindor asked.
Draco paused for a moment and glanced back at his adversary. “Heh. You actually do have a brain. I’m shocked, Weasel,” he commented as he turned his attention back to the hall. He turned down another corridor and his face scrunched up in confusion. “Why the bloody hell would she come down here?”
“Why? What’s down here?” came the question, but Draco ignored it as he came upon a door.
The Slytherin had never cared for Lavender Brown. Throughout his time in Hogwarts, he spent most of his time ignoring the harlot. The few times he had actually acknowledged her existence it was with disdain. Honestly, he felt that the Weasel deserved the girl. If something were to actually happen to her, he wouldn’t shed a tear. However, if it were to happen in his own home… well, that was cause for concern. One girl had already lost her life in Malfoy Manor. He had no desire to add to that list.
Stopping in front of an ornate door, he glanced at the Weasel. “Stay behind me,” he ordered.
“Like hell!” the ever predictable Weasel argued, reaching out to grab the door handle.
Draco moved to push past the boy, but it was too late. With a resounding boom, the Weasel was blasted backwards and hit the wall. The blond watched his unwanted companion, not bothering to help the boy, but not daring to move.
Weasley’s body slid down the wall and, for a moment, was propped near lifelessly against it. He groaned then and Draco silently breathed a sigh of relief. The ginger grimaced as he opened his bleary eyes and placed a hand on his forehead. “What the bloody hell was that?”
“That is what happens when I give a warning and you don’t listen,” Draco growled. He held out his hand to help the ginger up. “This is my family home. There are precautions in place to keep people like you out of certain rooms.”
“So, how do you know Lavender went in there?” the boy asked as he looked up and down the hall. “Lavender?” he called.
Draco rolled his eyes as he grabbed the door handle. He was seriously going to need a shot of whiskey after this. Maybe he’d be able to grab one of those cigarettes from Theo and sneak out somewhere for a smoke.
The moment Draco entered the room, the sconces along the walls lit up to reveal a cavernous museum that was quite large. Paintings of long dead ancestors lined the walls and huge columns were situated at regular intervals throughout the chamber. There were marble busts and life sized marble statues around them.
Draco’s face fell as he stared at the figure sitting in the middle of the room. “What is this? The Malfoy Museum or something?” Weasley’s voice echoed as he glanced around. His eyes, too, fell upon the figure.
Before Draco could grab him, Weasley took off through the room, running full speed at the figure. “Lavender!” he shouted.
She had been sitting on a bench, her body limp and her head lolled to the side. Weasley gathered her in his arms and touched the side of her face. “Lavender,” he whispered, trying to coax her awake.
Draco took a precautionary step further into the museum, looking around anxiously. He knew who lurked in this chamber. “Weasley,” he hissed as he approached the couple. “Can you lift her?”
But the Gryffindor wasn’t paying attention to the blond. He continued to try and rouse her. Draco’s eyes continued to dart about the chamber, looking for what he knew existed there. “Weasley,” he snapped again, keeping his voice down.
“Lavender, please, wake up, baby,” the ginger cooed. “I’m here. Malfoy,” the ginger barked, “what happened to her?”
Draco opened his mouth to answer, but a grisly sight greeted them both. It was a transparent man hovering right in front of them. He held an equally transparent heart in his hand, dripping of fading blood. He looked angry with a permanent sneer etched on his face, his pale, ghostly hair tied back. He had all the looks of an English nobleman, his clothes speaking of a time almost forgotten. With his free hand, he pointed at the girl. “Who is that?” his hollow voice demanded. “And what is a Weasley doing here?”
Draco stood tall, folding his arms, as he looked at the ghost. “They are guests,” he answered.
“Guests who visit chambers meant for our family only?” the ghost asked, gazing at the boy. He glared back at the couple on the bench as Lavender started to come to. “Neither of you are welcomed in our great and noble house, Weasley. Leave.”
His eyes narrowed as Draco stepped before the ghost. “You do not have the right to order my guests as you will,” he sneered. “They are not staying, nor did they mean to come this far into our home. I was actually leading them back out when you appeared.”
The ghost said nothing for a moment. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, or at least Draco supposed the ghost thought he was forcing them to wait an eternity, the ghost turned as if to float away. Stopping, he glanced at Draco. “The Mudblood. You mean to make her a Malfoy?” he asked curiously.
The Slytherin’s face hardened. “You will do well to never repeat that word again,” he ordered. “I am the lord of this Manor now and I will not have it sullied with such prejudice.” He paused for a moment. “And she’s more than a Muggle born,” he added. “She’s the heiress of Merlin, so you will do well to show her a bit of respect.”
The ghost stared at Draco for a moment and the blond suspected he was thinking it over. A slow smirk crept along the ghostly face as it turned and hovered away.
“Your family is just full of creepiness, isn’t it?” Weasley commented as he pulled Lavender closer to him.
“Who was that?” the girl asked breathlessly.
The boys both looked at her. Weasley turned to her and touched her cheek with the palm of his hand. “Are you alright?”
She nodded. “Just… that ghost, he gave me quite the fright,” she told him. She looked at Draco. “Who was he?”
“He’s of no concern to you,” he replied gruffly. “Let’s get back to the banquet hall.”
She shook her head as Weasley helped her stand on wobbly legs. “I won’t,” she confirmed. She looked at the ginger. “I want to go home, Ron. I have no use for snobbish brats like Granger.”
Draco glared at the girl. “I will gladly show you out. Hell, I’ll even arrange a carriage to come pick you up by the front door and carry you home.”
“I don’t want any charity from you, Malfoy,” Weasley growled. “We’ll find our own way home and you will pay for what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done?”
“You turned Hermione against me! You convinced her to trick Lavender into doing something she didn’t want to do and we both know Hermione would never do that,” the ginger accused.
Draco raised both of his brows. “You think I told Hermione…. Merlin, Weaselbee, you really know how to underestimate your friend’s intelligence, don’t you?”
“Everything was fine until you forced yourself into Hermione’s life,” the ginger argued.
The blond’s eyes narrowed. “Correction,” he stated. “Everything was fine until you banged Hermione’s roommate. All I did was pick up the broken pieces of her heart that you shattered and mend them. If you want to get out of this Manor, come with me.”
Not looking to see if they would follow, Draco turned on his heel and began walking to the front. He could hear them scrambling behind him to keep up. His mood darkened and he was almost tempted to lead them astray. Maybe lock them up in the darker recesses of the Manor. The ghost wasn’t even nearly as bad as some of the secret protectors of the Manor.
Right when he was about to take a turn towards said dungeon and the horrendous fate that would have awaited the couple, he changed his mind. Such a move wouldn’t endear him to Granger, especially if she figured it out, which he knew she undoubtedly would.
As they made it to the front, Draco waved his hand to open the great doors to the Manor. Turning to the couple, he ground out, “I’m sure the two of you can take it from here. Now get out.”
“Go jump off a balcony, Malfoy,” Weasley spat as he pushed past the Slytherin.
A malicious glint passed through Draco’s eyes. “If I wanted to kill myself so badly, Weasel breath, I would climb your ego and jump to your IQ. You and your little slag have insulted my future wife on more than one occasion tonight and disobeyed direct orders to keep you both safe. If you don’t leave, I will send my ghost to torment you until you do. Or would you rather I conjure up one of the other fiends that protect this house.”
Lavender stepped in front of Weasley before he could continue and pushed him out the door. She didn’t bother to say a word to Draco. The Slytherin waited until he saw them get into a car and peel out of the driveway. Rolling his eyes one more time, he turned and the doors shut behind him. He really needed a drink.
Author's Note: Much more intense than I had planned... Don't worry, there will be some lovey dovey scenes coming up. And who is that ghost? All shall be revealed in due time. :)
Victoria: I'm glad you're enjoying a bit of what's going on in my sick little mind. Lol! There's more to come, too.
Stephie22: Yeah. The sad thing is that I actually had to add a moment there where Hermione admits, at least mentally, that she had lied about the abortion, because I had received so many negative comments on it. That hadn't been what I had wanted to do. I really wanted to wait and reveal it in the later chapter when she told her parents about it. And furthermore, in this chapter where, well you see what happened.
Guys, please keep in mind that Richard Granger is NOT a fan of Lucius Malfoy. Lol. Not only that, but Hermione is his only child and a girl and, well, Daddy's gotta protect his baby, you know?
Please let me know what you think of this chapter! :) Thank you to those who did review and I will see you all next time!
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo