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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
- 24
- 25
- 26
Hermione was still angry with Draco and felt that she didn’t get all the answers she had wanted. However, she found a bit of solace in the fact that the answers he did give her were all true. If anything, she trusted in the Vow that he didn’t lie when he informed her that he knew nothing of the time she had spent with Blaise or Theodore. It still troubled her that Pansy had begun treating her better out of seemingly nowhere, but a bit more digging could probably find the answers to those questions.
The home she and Draco arrived in reminded her much of a miniature Malfoy Manor. It had probably half the number of rooms and corridors, but still carried an air of danger with it that she wasn’t sure she cared for too much. “Your mother did say we could decorate however we like, right?” she asked as she placed some luggage on the bed. The bedroom was styled much the same as an old Victorian room. In fact, the entire house was reminiscent of the past.
Draco glanced up as he opened his trunk and looked around. “I believe so, though you’ll want to be careful. Many of the things here are not just old, but expensive and fragile,” he warned.
The Muggle born rolled her eyes and gave him a bored look. “What in this family isn’t old and expensive and fragile?” she asked a bit sarcastically. “Also, when we have children, I don’t want to expose them to such things that they could break or get injured on. I would like to brighten this place up a bit. Maybe not to the extent that the chalet was, but adding colours other than green, grey, and black would be nice.”
“I won’t have you filling this entire manor with Gryffindor propaganda,” he said, pointing a pair of rolled up socks at her. “I don’t mind a banner or two. You can even have a few throw pillows or blankets.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Worried our children will become Gryffindors?” she asked, feeling a little miffed.
He frowned and shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “I think House Pride is a good thing. If the war has taught me anything, it is that people are people and who they are cannot be dictated by the House they are Sorted into when they are eleven years old.”
“Well said!” the Gryffindor praised, a bit surprised those words had come out of his mouth.
He gave her a small smile. “On the same note,” he continued, “no Malfoy has ever been in a House other than Slytherin and, personally, I would like to keep it that way, if you don’t mind.”
She folded her arms. “And if any of our children were to not be Sorted into Slytherin?” she questioned, a flash of challenge in her eyes.
Tossing another pair of socks on the bed, Draco sighed. “We’ll love them just the same,” he replied. He was beginning to grow tired of the questioning. Ever since they left the chalet, it had been one question after the other. He looked at her. “What is with all these questions, love?”
She shook her head and looked away. Sitting on the side of the bed, she answered, “I don’t know. I just… You have to admit this is all happening so fast.” She glanced up at him. “It feels like we started dating the very hour Ron and I broke up and not even a month after, we’re married. I can’t help but feel that if my parents were here, they would be greatly disappointed in me.”
“Why?” he asked. “Because you married the richest bloke in all of England?”
The witch scoffed. “No. Because I hardly know anything about you,” she told him. “Because I did not give my heart time to heal and because I didn’t think this through. I was so caught up in what was being offered to me, I didn’t take the time to consider any consequences.” She saw him frown and stopped him before he could protest. “Your father hates me, Draco.”
“My father doesn’t even know you.”
“That’s just it, though! He doesn’t even know me and he hates me! Why? Because I’m a Mudblood.”
“Don’t call yourself that,” he growled distastefully.
She huffed. “Why not? It’s what I am! I’m a Gryffindor Mudblood and I’m proud of it. God bless your mum for trying to find ways to work with it, but it’s something she will have to learn to deal with as well.” Her elbows dug into her thighs as she rested her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes with the tips of her fingers. “I still don’t know everything that has happened. I don’t understand it all and somehow, I feel like this is all my fault.”
He frowned. “What is all your fault?”
She waved a hand at him. “This!” she hissed. “You, me, your parents…”
“Bloody hell, Hermione! Is your life really so horrible now with me?” he asked, glaring at her. “Merlin’s beard, we’ve barely even started and you’re already equating our relationship as what? What do you think this is?”
“I don’t know!” she shouted as she stood up. “I don’t know what to make of any of this. We set off on this whirlwind romance, I hardly have time to catch my breath before we’re married. Our wedding was a fiasco…”
“That wasn’t your fault,” he pointed out. “If Potter’s little redhead hadn’t started…”
“And that’s another thing!” she screeched, throwing her hands up in the air. “You and your father are so against the Weasleys that you can’t even see straight.”
“Well, yeah,” he said. “Every time I look at them, all I see is red.” He snapped his fingers. “It’s the hair! All that red hair makes me think of those Spanish bulls. Can’t help but want to charge at them at full speed.”
She shook her head and turned away from him. “I can’t talk to you,” she said.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him so she would face him. “Don’t turn away from me,” he growled angrily.
She tried to jerk away from him, but he was stronger and only tightened his grip. “Let go of me,” she snarled, bearing her teeth.
“You won’t walk away from me,” he told her, calmly. “We were having a discussion. That doesn’t require any of this ugliness.”
“Then you shouldn’t insult my friends,” she snapped.
His eyes flashed again. “Your friends?” he spat as he released her. He jabbed the air with two of his fingers. “That girl insulted my father twice at our wedding! More than twice! In fact, every time she comes here, if she’s not insulting him, then she’s insulting me.” He pointed at Hermione. “Let me catch her insulting you. Don’t think I will hesitate to make her life a living hell. You are my wife and I’ll be damned if anyone speaks ill of you.”
“Including your father?” she asked as she rubbed her upper arm where he had grabbed.
His eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists at his sides. “Since we’ve been married, my father hasn’t said one wrong word about you,” he told her. “If anything, he’s been nothing but cordial to you since his return.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” she said with a face. “He hasn’t tried to hex me yet, but that’s probably more because he doesn’t have a wand. Nor has he called me a Mudblood, but he has this strange way of using the phrase ‘my dear’ that makes me uneasy.”
“You’ve told me that.”
“Did you know he can do wandless magic?” she asked. “At the reception, when he and I were dancing, we had this insane conversation that absolutely no one could hear. Of course, I recognized the spell immediately, though I didn’t hear him say an incantation.”
He smirked and she took a step back in disbelief. “Funny thing about old wizarding families. So many people think we’re so far inbred that we lack the brain capacity to actually be intelligent enough to master such skill.” He shook his head. “Who do you think taught me wandless and even wordless magic? The summer before our fifth year, that was all Father and I worked on when he wasn’t playing errand boy to the Dark Lord. Of course, I was no professional, but the very next summer Mother and Aunt Bella picked up where Father had left off.”
Dropping the socks on the bed, Draco called for Maisey. When she appeared, he gently ordered, “Finish unpacking for us and make sure something is prepared for dinner. It’s been a long day and I’m famished.”
“I can unpack my own…”
Draco reached out to Hermione and pulled her into his embrace. “No, Maisey can do it. Honestly, love, I would like to spend some peaceful time in my new home with my new wife,” he cooed as he pressed her head against his chest. Hermione didn’t protest, but let him hold her for a moment. Finally, he loosened his grip and looked down at her. When she met his eyes, he asked, “Are you still angry with me, love?”
Hermione stared up at him for a moment, looking into his silvery grey eyes. Had this man truly loved her most of his life? “Do you remember the day we met?” she asked curiously.
He gave a little snort. “Yeah, I do. Ol’ Longbottom had lost his toad on the train and you had made it your mission to find it for him. I almost thought you were daft because you didn’t answer me right away. Then, when you did, you were speaking so fast I could barely understand a word you were saying. But I did manage to catch your name,” he added with a smile.
She blushed. “Well, I was a bit nervous,” she admitted, staring down at his chest. “I didn’t know that they made boys like you and I didn’t quite understand what it was I was feeling at the time.”
“Boys like me?” he repeated with a smirk. “Why, Mrs. Malfoy, were you crushing on me all those years ago?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I think it was the hair,” she said, lifting a hand to run through those white locks.
He chuckled as he bent down to kiss her softly on the lips. “Tell me more,” he whispered greedily as he began backing her up to the bed. “What was it you liked about my hair?”
“Honestly, it looked so stiff, though that was no doubt in part because of the amount of potion you put in it. However, I imagined it must have been soft even then,” she told him. “You always looked so impeccable. Even as you grew, your clothes always fit you so well. I had no doubt that you would look good in anything you wore.”
He made a low “Mmmm” sound in his throat as he turned her head slightly so he could kiss the tender spot of her neck. “Go on,” he breathed, letting his hot breath brush against her skin.
Hermione bit her bottom lip. “You were… I… Ooohh, do that again,” she moaned as he nipped and sucked at her neck.
He smirked to himself as he gently pushed her onto the bed. He broke away long enough to strip off his shirt, not caring if he ripped buttons off. As he unbuckled his belt and pulled it off, he climbed onto the bed, staring at her with lust filled eyes.
She gave him a nervous smile. They’d been married for a week and she was still a bit surprised at his aggression, especially when it came to sex. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered Lavender and Pavarti gushing over how great it would be to have sex with the Slytherin Prince. In fact, there were hardly any girls in Hogwarts who didn’t loudly daydream about Draco. As she watched him kick off his trousers and begin working on her clothes, she could understand why.
She wasn’t sure if it was his time as a Death Eater or all those years playing Quidditch that gave him the lean, tight muscle, but she silently thanked whatever it was that had done it. She pushed herself back slightly and lifted a hand to push her hair out of the way as he slipped her blouse off, revealing the racy bra underneath. A fire burned in his eyes at the sight and he made quick work of her skirt to discover a matching pair of knickers.
His lips crashed against hers as his hands ran over her body. Sliding one hand under her bra, he teased the nipple there while his other hand glided under the waist band of her knickers. “So wet for me already, love,” he said softly as he rubbed her clit between two fingers.
Hermione arched her back when he pressed a finger against her entrance, letting just the tip of it poke inside. “Oh, God, Draco,” she groaned. “Please.”
He licked his lips as he began working on her womanhood, pressing his thumb against her clit as he started thrusting two fingers inside her, curling them as they entered. All the time, he continued rolling her nipple between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. He sucked on her neck, alternating between kissing and nipping. That was when he decided to do something he had never done before. Reaching behind her, he unhooked her bra and pulled it off with one hand – his other was still buried in her quim – then, he lowered himself and sucked a nipple into his mouth.
Hermione hissed and her hands submerged themselves in his hair. “Sweet Merlin,” she whispered, shuddering at the sudden feel.
Draco moved by sheer instinct, never having suckled on a teat before, at least not that he could remember. The taste of her skin was addicting and Draco found that all he wanted was more. She felt good, too, writhing against him as he continued his attempt to immerse his fingers inside of her. He had fingered her before, of course. After a day of the typical missionary, baby making sex, he grew curious about what else he could do. He had heard so many stories from Nott, Zabini, and other House mates, but had never given himself the chance to indulge. Now he could, and he intended to.
He continued moving further down, licking and kissing a path down her abdomen. He pulled at her knickers with his free hand before taking his fingers out of her to use both hands. She glanced down at him to watch as he worked her knickers, lifting her hips up a bit to help him. He gave her a grateful smile as he took the knickers off and tossed them behind him. He ran a finger along her slit, marvelling at how wet she felt. Curiously, he lifted his finger up to inspect it a moment. He sniffed at it and, to Hermione’s surprise, licked it. The Muggle born’s eyes widened as he stuck his finger in his mouth and the looked at it curiously, his lips pinched together.
“What are you doing?” she asked, staring at him.
He licked his lips thoughtfully before responding. “I’ve never tasted anyone before,” he told her. “I’ve heard stories, but never really much cared, thinking it was a bit gross. Besides, why would I want to taste someone who wasn’t my wife?” He shrugged. “The only girl I ever thought to do this with is you, love.”
“You could have done this at the chalet,” she commented, biting her lip as he reached down and began teasing her clit again.
“You’re right,” he replied, “but I was too busy trying to impregnate you.” He gave her a smirk as she frowned up at him.
She tilted her head. “Do you think I’m pregnant?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not, but I suppose it doesn’t matter much anyway,” he said as he situated himself between her legs, propping his arms up on his elbows. “Given the amount of sex we’ve had and the amount we will have, I am hoping you’ll become pregnant soon enough.”
The time for talking as over as he dipped his fingers in her quim again and restarted the act of fingering her. It was a different taste for him, but he didn’t dislike it. Of course, he had only licked his finger. The true test would be to taste her directly. So, that’s what he did, licking her clit.
A sharp gasp and moan was all the confirmation Draco needed to know she enjoyed it. He continued licking her. Trying to go further, he took his fingers out of her and actually tried to push his tongue inside.
“Oh my God,” he heard her moan.
When she bucked, her clit slammed into his nose causing him to pull back and cover his nose. “Shit!” he growled and she glanced up at him in concern.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
He rubbed his nose, but nodded. “Yesh, I’m fine,” he said.
There was concern in her eyes, though she giggled, “Are you sure?”
He glared at her as he dropped his hand. “Think this is funny, do you?”
She smirked. “I can’t help it,” she said and she gave him a remorseful look. “Draco, I…”
Before she could say more, he jumped on her, tickling her sides. She squealed as he threatened playfully, “I’ll give you something to laugh about!”
She giggled and kicked, unable to do much more as he held both of her small hands in one of his large ones. “Draco!” she gasped with tears streaming down her eyes.
“What’s wrong, my sweet little lion?” he asked in a teasing tone as he continued to tickle her side. “Did you get ensnared by the big bad snake?”
He eased up his tickling as he bent down towards her, dipping his head so he could lick the curve of her neck. “Mmmm…” he groaned as he flicked his tongue. “So delicious.”
She giggled again and squirmed. “Oh, God, Draco,” she laughed.
He smirked as he licked her flesh again. Sometime during their play, she had ended up crossing her legs. He pried her legs apart by pushing his leg between them. He realigned himself so he was comfortable and reached down to grab his dick. He felt her opening with the tip of his cock and plunged into her with one quick thrust. They both groaned as he became fully situated inside of her and she unconsciously wrapped her legs around his waist.
She moaned in time with his thrusts, and soon, he began moaning with her. “Merlin, Hermione,” he panted as he ploughed into her. “Fuck!” He grabbed her hips and thrust harder into her.
“Oh!” she gasped, not prepared for his aggression. He sped up and she grabbed the duvet beneath her to keep herself from hitting the backboard of the bed. “Yes! Yes! Harder!” she screeched.
He pulled out of her and climbed off so he could flip her onto her stomach. “Get on your knees,” he ordered gruffly
Hermione tucked her legs under herself and lifted herself up so she was on her hands and knees. Draco pushed on her upper back. “Just your arse,” he growled.
As she rested her head on the pillow, he plunged back into her warm wetness. He grabbed a handful of her hair and began fucking her fast and hard. “Dr-Dr-Drac-c-co! Too d-d-deeeepp!” she screamed.
He pulled her up by her hair and snarled in her ear, “Don’t ever cut this hair. It’s too bloody sexy. I’m going to fuck you into this bed, Granger.”
The Muggle born couldn’t think. She had been fucked this hard by him before, and had enjoyed it immensely. As he forced her face back into the pillow and held her there, she could feel herself shiver violently. He leaned forward and she could feel the fine hairs of his barely there happy trail tickle her lower back as he grunted with each thrust. His free hand reached around her waist to the front of her pussy and he began stroking her clit fast and hard. Hermione bit the pillow to muffle her screams as his fucking became brutal.
“Fuck!” he shouted. “Come for me, Hermione.”
She never knew how he did it, but she saw white as she threw her head back and screamed. For a moment she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as she felt him give one final shove and empty his seed deep inside her. He continued to give shallow thrusts as her body milked every last drop of him.
As he began to slow down, he released her hair and his grip he somehow had on her hip. Turning slightly, he collapsed beside her, his spent cock slipping out of her and flopping onto his leg. She buckled over him awkwardly and pulled her arm out from under her so she could drape it over his chest. She panted heavily and her eyes fluttered. She lifted her hand to push some of her unruly hair out of her eyes. She gazed up at him, amazed as always by how innocent he looked when he was relaxed. She touched his jaw with the tips of her fingers and smiled at how smooth the skin felt. She wondered if he ever had to worry about growing a beard, or if he somehow managed to cast a spell to keep facial hair at bay.
“Give me a moment, love,” he whispered softly. He turned on his side towards her and pulled her into his embrace. “I could lay like this forever.”
Hermione smiled. She didn’t know exactly when she had fallen in love with the Slytherin, but she could no longer deny her feelings towards him. It would be pointless anyhow, since they were now married. She still wasn’t entirely sure of his intentions or plans, but she felt comfort in the idea that he wouldn’t hurt her. There were still many questions she had, but the anger seemed to seep out of her. Sneaky Slytherin, she thought. He did this on purpose because he knew it would calm me down.
“I love you,” she whispered to him as she kissed his peck and allowed her eyes to flutter shut.
“I love you, too.”
(II)(II)
Hermione took a deep breath as she stood at a large door. Next to her was a house elf who looked as though it could choke the life out of her without a second thought.
“Master Lucius will call for Mistress Hermione when Master Lucius is ready. Stay here, please,” the elf told her before disappearing with a profound crack!
The Muggle born’s eyes narrowed. If he wasn’t ready to see her, then why in Merlin’s name had he summoned her?
Hermione had spent the day shopping with Luna and Ginny. While her new Manor was completely furnished and decorated, it lacked a lot of the things Hermione loved. She could, and would, live there regardless, but she wanted to make it more into a home for Draco and her. Honestly, it was way too spacious, but the Gryffindor went with it. It was smaller than Malfoy Manor, after all, and the only occupants were Draco and herself. She didn’t have to worry about his parents constantly being there. As much as she loved Narcissa, the Pureblood witch was a bit too stuff for Hermione at times.
Another elf appeared after what seemed like forever. “Master Lucius wishes to see Mistress Hermione now,” the elf said in a gruff and rather unpleasant voice.
“Thank…” she started, but stopped as the elf disappeared suddenly. Hermione frowned as she stepped into the room.
She had been in Lucius’s study once before, though Lucius hadn’t been there. During her initial tour of the Manor, Draco had purposely stopped there and allowed her inside to see it. It hadn’t changed. Dark mahogany furniture gave the study an imposing look. The room was lit by the fireplace and candles placed in strategic spots. Two dark brown leather armchairs sat in front of the fireplace with end tables on either side of them. On the floor rested a large rug that bore the Malfoy crest in dark green and black. But it was the large, mahogany desk all the way in the back of the room that caught her attention. Sconces on the wall lit the back of the room and illuminated the desk and the person sitting there. Dark brown leather chairs sat in front of the desk, while Lucius sat in an equally leather, but larger chair behind it.
As always, Lucius looked impeccable, but to Hermione’s surprise, he wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His long hair hung loosely on his shoulders, a few strands having fallen forward as he bent his head down to write. The Gryffindor held her head up high as she approached the desk.
“Give me a moment, my dear,” Lucius said without looking up. “Take a seat.”
The Muggle born watched as he finished the letter he was writing. His signet ring flashed in the candlelight. “Does the low light help you to feel more intimidating?” she asked.
He glanced up at her and smirked. “Are you intimidated, my dear?”
“Hardly,” she said with a sniff. The smirk on his face was an exact replica of Draco’s and Hermione wanted nothing more than to wipe it off of his face. She added haughtily, “I’ve fought you before, if you recall. I believe we both remember the outcome of that disaster.”
She took silent pleasure in the way he pressed the quill to the letter slightly harder than necessary and clenched his left fist. “Continue to play with fire, pet, and you will get burned,” he warned as he placed the quill in its holder and looked up at her.
“I’m not your pet,” she told him. “Nor am I one of your servants who can be summoned whenever you wish. My time is valuable, Mr. Malfoy. I suggest the next time you wish to see me, you send me an owl and make an appointment. Where’s Draco?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Quite the demanding little witch, aren’t you? If my memory serves me correctly, which I assure you it does, I am the Head of this family. As such, if I wish to see you, I hardly need an appointment. You’ll come when called and you’ll do so quickly and without complaint,” he stated calmly. “You married Draco and, therefore, have responsibilities that should be your topmost priority. Are you with child yet?”
She blinked. “Pardon?”
Lucius gave a patient sigh. “You’re not daft, girl. Are you pregnant?”
“No, I’m not,” she told him. At his disgruntled look, she huffed. “It’s not from lack of trying, I assure you.”
“Then perhaps you should try harder,” he suggested. “Draco has mentioned various projects you wish to complete and, while I commend you on your efforts, it might be more beneficial for you to allow Draco to take on some of the load. Once you have a child, it will be difficult for you to juggle the child with a career. Draco mentioned to me that your birthday falls on the 19^th of September. If you would like your parents to attend, my advice would be for you to send off that package we spoke of earlier. Also, Narcissa will be preparing for Samhain in October. As Draco’s wife, you will be required to offer your help and be available when she needs you.”
She glared at him and folded her arms across her chest. “I can do all of those whilst still working on my projects. I can even tutor Draco and check his numbers as he learns the family business.”
He held a hand up. “You needn’t worry about Draco,” he told her. “He has been doing quite well under my tutelage.”
“Where is he now?” she asked again.
He waved a dismissive hand at the door. “I had him go to the warehouse to check on a new shipment of potion ingredients. We grow many of the things in our own greenhouses, but some of the more… rare ingredients we have to acquire from other places,” he explained.
A house elf entered the room carrying a tray of sweetmeats. At the sound, Hermione and Lucius turned their attention to the creature. The elf silently placed the tray on an end table by the fireplace and looked up at the wizard. Lucius gave a single, slight nod, and the elf spoke, “Blinky made sure your liquor cabinet was properly stocked when Blinky learned of your return, Master Lucius. Blinky hopes Master Lucius isn’t displeased with the interruption, sir.”
“Not at all,” the Pureblood wizard stated as he pushed back his chair and stood. “Any word on how much longer until supper is served, Blinky?” he asked as he stepped from behind the desk.
“Supper is right on schedule, sir,” the little elf replied.
Lucius nodded as he opened his liquor cabinet and pulled out two glasses. He glanced back at the witch. “Would you care to join me, my dear?” he offered. “It isn’t tea, but a finger or two of brandy does help to ease your stress.”
Eyes narrowed suspiciously, Hermione stood and walked to where he was standing, watching as he poured the drinks. She thought about what Andromeda had said as Lucius handed her one of the glasses. He lifted his own glass and clinked it against hers. “To family,” he said and he took a sip of his drink.
“Family,” Hermione repeated slowly. She waited a moment, to see if he would have any concerning reaction to the liquid before taking a cautionary sip of her own drink.
He gave a small, satisfied smile and turned to one of the armchairs. Grabbing a sugarplum on his way, he popped the sweetmeat in his mouth and sat, propping his booted feet on the footstool in front of him. He rested his walking stick beside him and watched her. He gently stirred the drink in his hand. “You needn’t stand on ceremony, my dear. Please, sit. This Manor is just as much your home as it is mine, even if you refuse to reside in these halls at the moment.”
“You do understand why,” she commented as she sat across from him.
He gave a quiet nod and took another sip of his drink. “I blamed my father for my mother’s death. She died here, in this Manor. For years, I was much like you. Refusing to live in the place where so much heartache existed. It took me a long time to forgive him, and, honestly, it wasn’t truly his fault. My mother was responsible for her own choices.”
“Malfoys usually aren’t at fault for the misfortune of others,” Hermione commented scathingly.
“Indeed,” the wizard said with a quirk of his brow. “We never do get caught, however, in this case, it really wasn’t his fault. She chose to ride alone without her wand.” He pinched his lips together for a moment and turned his attention to the drink in his hand. “It is a husband’s responsibility to protect his wife, always. They are one mind, one heart, one soul, bound together both in love and trust. They work together to achieve one another’s dreams.” He glanced up at her. “This is why I suggested allowing Draco to help you with your projects. I’ve looked over your proposals and I will tell you, they’ll never pass without the proper supports. Equal rights for Muggle borns and Half-bloods? Rights for house elves, werewolves, and other creatures? These can all be possible, if you take the proper measures.”
She smiled. “I know,” she said, holding her head up proudly. “Did you think I wanted to marry Draco just because he is handsome and I love him? He’s also the son of one of the most ruthless men in politics, did you know? Of course, I didn’t know all of that when I first met him, but the name Malfoy is quite infamous and I do love the library. It didn’t take me long to learn about the family, but you are an ancient Pureblood family, so I wasn’t sure that I would ever get the chance to befriend Draco, much less marry him.” She took another sip of her drink. “It was a hopeless fantasy and I never knew how he felt about me. Eventually I gave up, thinking he hated me. I fell in love with Ron.” At his scoff, she frowned at the wizard. “I did. I was completely in love with him and even wanted to marry him. With the war, though, came a lot of realizations about him, about myself, and about the world we live in. I was heartbroken when Ron ended our relationship over a bouquet of flowers, however, looking back, it was for the best. Not just because I am in love with Draco, but also because I’ve realized it never would’ve worked out between Ron and me. He needs someone who can baby him. Someone who gives in easily to his demands and stays home. Someone more like his own mum.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’m more interested in my career. Raising a family is great, but there are things I want to do, things that need to be done.” She glanced up into Lucius’s eyes. “That war never should have happened and it’s my duty to the Wizarding World to ensure it never happens again. Our future depends upon it.”
Lucius had remained quiet during her small speech, a soft smile playing on his lips as his eyes glittered with calculation. “Has anyone ever told you that you are very Slytherin?” he asked. “In fact, if you had even an ounce of magical blood that is the House you probably would have ended up in.”
“The Sorting Hat originally wanted to put me in Ravenclaw,” she told him.
His smile widened slightly. “Yes. More than likely because Slytherin doesn’t allow Muggle borns,” he commented.
“Draco did,” she said. “He told me I should have been in Slytherin, though, I was very happy in Gryffindor. I’ve given that thought, too, and I do believe I was meant to be in Gryffindor,” she admitted. “If I hadn’t been, I never would’ve become friends with Harry and we never would have defeated Voldemort. He’s like the brother I never had and I love him as such.”
He tilted his head in acceptance. “I am aware, my dear. All I ask is that you don’t let your loyalties to Mr. Potter come between or before your loyalties to our family.”
“They won’t,” she stated, shaking her head. “I know my priorities, Mr. Malfoy, and I know they have changed with my marriage to your son. I hope you realize that he supports me in my endeavours?”
“As he should,” Lucius responded. “It is a husband’s obligation to indulge in his wife’s desires and passions as it is a wife’s obligation to do the same for her husband. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve fallen into calling me ‘Mr. Malfoy’ again.”
Hermione frowned. “I wasn’t aware you didn’t like being called that and I know you despise it when I call you ‘Father’.”
“I don’t despise it,” he told her. “It is taking some getting used to, but time will make it easier, my dear. As for calling me ‘Mr. Malfoy’, I do believe we are past that by now, wouldn’t you agree? If you were merely dating my son, that would be understandable, however, you are not only married to my son, but you’re currently sitting in my study alone with me.” His eyes narrowed and she saw something there that she hadn’t before. She didn’t know what it was, but it made her suddenly uncomfortable.
Hermione shifted in her seat as realization began to dawn on her. Her eyes widened and he smirked. “As I’ve said, my dear, you needn’t worry about what I may or may not do with you,” he told her as he caught the underlying fear in her eyes. “If you would like, you are more than welcomed to finish your drink and eat some of the sweets Blinky had brought for us. They haven’t been poisoned or drugged.”
She blushed and glanced down at her glass. “It wasn’t my intention to cause you to think…” She shook her head and held it up and proud. “I am not much into drinking, Father. As for the sweets, you do know my parents were dentists. As such, I never had much growing up and don’t really indulge in them now. If you took my polite refusal as any sort of belief that I may think them altered, then I apologize. That wasn’t my intent.” As if to prove her point, she finished the drink in one go and placed the empty glass on the end table. “I don’t fear you, Father. I may have as a child, but not anymore.”
He gave her a soft smirk and inclined his head. “Be sure to inform me when they decide to come,” he said. “If we are to reverse that spell, I’ll need them here. Also, I know they are aware of your powers. After their memories are restored, Narcissa will add them to our list of party invitees unless you tell her otherwise.”
“I will keep that in mind, though I don’t see why I would tell her otherwise,” she commented as she plucked a sweet from the tray. Her eyes flashed in defiance as she popped the candy in her mouth and stared at him.
He chuckled as he leaned over and did the same.

Author's Note: ....Yeah. I've noticed that I have a tendency to write more about the interaction between Hermione and Lucius, but given that Narcissa had accepted Hermione thoroughly, a lot of times I imagine the conversation between the women to lean more towards "I like that shade." "Oh, darling, pastels are so last season." *Giggles*
Trelweny: You'll see Hermione accepting a lot more truths from Draco as the chapters go on because, you're right, he can't lie to her. At least not ouright. However, much like the verse in the Bible he showed her, he can give her misinformation that, to him, is true. Like his parents, Draco's views of the world is still very one-dimensional and conservative. That may change as time passes, but right now...
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