Bless the Broken Road | By : Lissa & snowblind12 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 10182 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money off of my stories. |
AN: Please continue to pay attention to the timeline! It continues to be non-linear through this chapter. I believe starting next chapter, we live in the present permanently.
Thank you, thank you for your reviews, follows, favs, etc. Every single one is so appreciated!
Snow and I realized we made a BIG mistake and have not been thanking our incredible BETAs: RaynePhoenix2 and sab81790. Shame on us, totally. These ladies are AMAXING and deserve all your love and thanks as well as ours. This has been rectified on past chapters. We love you both so much!!! xxx Lissa & Snow.
Chapter Five
When You’re Gone
Four Years AFTER Astoria’s Death
Two and a Half Year PRIOR to Ron’s Death
“When you’re gone, the pieces of my heart are missing you. When you’re gone the face I came to know is missing, too. When you’re gone the words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it okay…I miss you.” *
January 2010
“Draco…” Narcissa Malfoy trailed off, looking to her husband for help. Lucius raised one pale eyebrow and gave a small shrug. Blasted man is no help whatsoever, she thought affectionately. “Honey, it’s been almost four years. Don’t you think it’s time to…to move on a little?”
Draco raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of his father as he pulled a deep mouthful of wine from his goblet with his hard mouth. He took his time swallowing before gently setting the glass down and answering his mother. “I think, Mother, that I’ll move on when the time is right. Don’t you agree, Father?”
Lucius Malfoy, ever self-preserving, raised both hands in surrender. “This is, as they say, your mother’s party. Don’t be too hard on her, son. She just wants to see you happy.”
The younger Malfoy closed his eyes in order to gain a brief respite from the conversation that they’d had one too many times over the past couple years. “I’m just not…ready, Mother, please. Scorpius takes up plenty of my time. Then of course there is Malfoy Enterprises and learning to run the manor. I don’t have time to date.”
“But there’s this lovely girl, Chrysanthemum – she goes by Chrissy. She’s a cousin to the Selwyn’s and I think you would adore her, Draco!” Narcissa protested. “She’s positively stunning.”
“I will not marry for duty again, Mother.” His words were clipped
Narcissa harrumphed, pouting. “You loved Astoria.”
“I grew to love Astoria, and we both know how lucky I was. You two know how lucky you are.” Draco looked pointedly at his parents. “When – if – I marry again, it will be for love. Love for me and for Scorpius. I will not let the strictness of tradition guide my heart if I marry a second time.”
His parent’s wary expressions were somewhat satisfying. Maybe he could finally put them off for a while. The constant insistence he meet and marry someone new helped no one. Lucius cleared his throat. “What, exactly, are you trying to tell us, Draco?”
“Have you met someone?” Narcissa tilted her head and a small, hopeful smile crossed her face. At this point, he could bring home a full-blown Muggle, as long as the girl made him smile.
“No, Mother, please don’t get the wrong idea.” An ache was starting to form behind his eyes and he rubbed his forehead with long, elegant fingers in attempts to smooth it away. “I’m trying to tell you that I will not be forced into a second arranged marriage with a pureblood witch. I will meet a woman the modern way. We will date and fall in love and then – only then – will I propose marriage. I’m trying to tell you that if she happens to be half-blood or Muggleborn, I will not be swayed by your prejudices. Those beliefs are no longer mine; they haven’t been for a long time.”
Narcissa looked horrified at his presumptions. Her previous opinions on blood status had diminished greatly since the end of the war, but the angry color rising in her husband’s face told her Lucius was still clinging to the old ways for dear life. This was not going as she had planned. “You don’t know what you’re saying!” Narcissa said quickly, reaching a hand out to cover her husband’s to calm him, she shot him a warning look and he gripped her fingers with his own. His face remained colored, but his eyes agreed with her that they could discuss this matter later.
“I do, Mother. I do know what I am saying.” He heaved a deep sigh and took another large mouthful of the delicious red vintage. “Please understand, I’m not going to purposely go looking for a half-blood or Muggleborn witch. I don’t think I’ve ever been a spiteful son, but I will not be put off by it. We lost the war, just in case you don’t remember. For fuck’s sake, Father, the Dark Lord was only a half-blood!”
Lucius started to sputter, but Draco broke him off. “Father, you have your Pureblood heir with me, and I have mine with Scorpius. Any more children I may or may not have – well it just doesn’t matter to me. All that matters to me is to eventually find someone I can love. Someone who will open their heart willingly to the boy. Be happy with that, and please –” here he looked at his mother again, eyes alight with frustration undercut with sadness, “– please stop trying to push me into a relationship I’m not ready for. It will only end in more sadness.”
He didn’t wait for them to answer. Tossing his napkin down on his plate, he shoved his chair back and stalked out of the dining room to their halfhearted protests that he rejoin them. It took every ounce of determination not to flee like a toddler having a tantrum. He was so bloody sick of having this talk with them, which is why he derailed it with the half-blood and Muggleborn comment. He wasn’t ready to date. He didn’t want to marry again any time soon. He would be damned if he was talked into courting and marrying another Pureblood witch – unless he was interested. Which, at this point, he was not.
Draco had tried, albeit sparingly. He had attempted to date, but nothing ever felt right. He had even had a couple of one-night stands; mostly to sate sexual needs, but also trying to just feel something for a woman. Any woman. Perhaps that was the problem, though. Something was making him wait. Something was making him not interested. It didn’t seem to matter if he found a witch attractive or not, there was just no connection. Not like he’d had with Astoria. He decided not long after she died that he would wait for that feeling again before he became serious about a witch. It had taken time to grow between them, and they had known how lucky they were considering their arranged marriage. He vowed to her memory he wouldn’t just replace her with a pretty face and a marriage contract. That if or when he married again and gave Scorpius a new mother – it would be because the woman loved them both.
He slammed the front door of the Manor behind him in his frustrated rage and then, before he even knew what he was doing, he was standing in front of the willow where his wife had been entombed almost four years ago. It was freezing, but he had left his cloak inside, barely even realizing where he had intended to go.
Staring at the white marble stone that marked Astoria’s grave, Draco shoved his hands deeply into his pockets. He bowed his head, hair whipping in the freezing January wind. “How has it been four years, Tori?” he whispered, digging the toe of his shoe into the thin layer of powdery snow beneath his feet. “It feels like yesterday.” He sighed and glanced towards the manor where a few windows were lit with a warm glow. It made him realize just how cold he was.
Draco turned back to the headstone. “I miss you. So much.” He stood there a long time, eyes burning with unshed tears. He stared at nothing until the winter wind moved him into action. Stepping forward, he dropped a kiss on top of the stone before turning to leave.
Eight Months Later
September 2010
“I will not stand for this anymore, darling.” Iris Greengrass clinked her teacup down on its saucer and glared at her son-in-law, who was watching Scorpius play with a few figurines of dragons on the floor in the Greengrass’s day room. “Astoria would never want you to live this way. You need a woman in your life. That little boy needs a mother.”
Draco gave an exasperated snort. “You and I bloody well know that Astoria would love that I was pining for her, Iris. Seriously.”
The regal woman couldn’t help but give a chuckle. “Fine. You may be right, but after a time I think it would have saddened her. Dear boy, it’s been long enough. Have you even been on a date in the last four and a half years? Daphne tells me that there are many young women interested in you.”
Draco rolled his eyes. He had no interest in the galleon hungry witches who pursued him. He wanted the impossible. Someone who would genuinely love him for himself and not for what he could provide. He would probably have to leave the UK to find her, though. Somewhere the label ‘prior Death Eater’ held no meaning. Most importantly, this unachievable woman would have to love Scorpius and would need to want to be a mother to him. Realizing he hadn’t answered his mother-in-law he shrugged.
“Of course, I have.” He made a face. “Not any good ones, though.” A sigh escaped him. “I just…nothing’s right. Every time I go out with someone, I just compare them to her. No one meets expectations.”
“Hmm,” the older witch mused. “Please don’t think I’m being presumptuous, but Draco…” She trailed off and took a deep breath, as if she was preparing for a killing blow. “I think you need help.”
Draco gave his mother-in-law a blank stare. “What do you mean?”
“Help. You need to go somewhere, talk about what you’re feeling.”
“A shrink?”
“Oh, well. Perhaps.” She gave a noncommittal lift of her shoulders, then turned to her small clutch bag. “A friend of mine lost her husband earlier this year. She’s been attending a support group through St. Mungo’s.” Iris pulled a small lavender colored pamphlet out of her bag. “She said it’s really helpful to be around other people who truly understand her loss.” She handed the paper out to him.
Draco hesitantly reached out his hand and plucked the brochure from her fingers, glancing down at it.
“Spouse-loss Support Group.” He raised his eyebrows, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Go once, Draco,” Iris begged. It was undignified, but she couldn’t watch her son-in-law continue down this dreary, lonely path. All the poor man did was work and care for his son. While he was an exceptional father, and Scorpius adored him, she knew he needed a woman in his life. Both of the young Malfoy men did. Woman changed everything. They made everything brighter and softer.
“I don’t know, Iris…” He trailed off and thumbed open the pamphlet. He scanned the first paragraph, emotion closing his throat.
The death of a spouse means losing your lover, best friend, confidante, and co-wrangler of children, household tasks, and life. In addition to the heartache of missing the person closest to you in the world, the isolation of losing a spouse can be devastating. Friends and family are nurturing and helpful in the first few weeks after death, but are not always available when you need support. Come join us and we will help you connect with others for advice and sympathy. Somewhere you can share your feelings anytime of the day or night. **
He felt a warm body sit next to him and realized Iris had moved from her position across the way. She slipped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a sideways hug. “I miss her, too. Every day of my life. Losing a daughter is devastating in its own right. Losing a spouse, though, I think is much harder. Your other half was taken from you much too soon. The people who attend this group understand what you are going through. Please, Draco. Just give it a try.”
Draco’s eyes tingled with the threat of tears, which he was able to keep at bay. It had been a long time since he had cried last.
“You need to figure out how to work through the grief, love.” She patted his hand. “It’s been too long already. Life is passing you by. Please.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ll try it, Iris. I thank you for your concern.” He did not meet her eyes as he folded the slip of paper and tucked it into his robe pocket.
“Good,” the brunette witch said with a smile, patting his back.
“Thank you for the tea, Iris.” He leaned over to hug the woman affectionately, pressing a kiss to her soft cheek. “Scorpius, come now, son. Time to go!”
He watched the small, scrawny, blond-haired boy gather his dragons before bringing them to his father. Draco shrunk them down and put them in his pocket while his son hugged his Grandmother.
“I love you, Grandmother,” he said obligingly, and Draco smiled. A real, genuine smile. Scorpius was the only person in the world who could draw them out of him these days.
“C’mon, my little monster!” He scooped the boy up into his arms, Scorpius immediately snuggled into Draco’s shoulder with a yawn. “You’re a tired niffler, huh?”
“I’m not tired,” the little boy whispered, eyes already drooping.
“Mm.” Draco made a sound of agreement, even though he knew better, and suppressed a chuckled. “We’ll see you next week, Iris. Take care!”
Approximately Two Years Later
“I wake up and teardrops they fall down like rain. I put on that old song we danced to and then I head off to my job, guess not much has changed. Punch the clock, head for home, check the phone, just in case, go to bed, dream of you…that’s what I’m doing these days.” **
June 2012
“Rose, please get down here!” Hermione called up the stairs. “Your cereal is going to be a mushy mess!”
“I’m not going!” came the over-emotional reply of one Rose Granger-Weasley. “You can’t make me!”
Hermione felt her temper start to get the best of her and pushed it down with a firm metaphorical hand. Resigning herself, she started the trek upstairs to talk to her daughter.
“Sweetheart,” she murmured, knocking lightly on Rose’s door before letting herself into her room. “What’s going…on. Oh, honey.” She caught her breath and tried to push back the tears that threatened. Rose was dressed and ready to go, her hair done up in pigtails with a blue bow on the left. Her daughter was laying on her belly in the middle of her bed, staring at the picture of herself and Ron that Hermione had blown up and framed to stay on her dresser. The two were smiling and waving at the camera before Rose plopped a messy kiss on her father’s cheek while he laughed. It had been done with the intention of helping her daughter grieve and to ensure she could always look at him whenever she needed too.
She moved to the edge of the bed. “Rosie, I know you miss Daddy,” she murmured, reaching out a hand to stroke the girl’s red head lovingly. “I know Daddy misses you, too.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she struggled to hold back the waterworks. Six weeks and it just felt like it was getting worse instead of better. How in the world was she supposed to survive this? It was too bloody hard.
She snuggled up to Rose, laying on her tummy by the tiny six-year-old girl and tossing an arm around her petite form. “Dominique and Albus will miss you so much if you don’t go to tutoring today. I know being with your cousins makes you feel better. Mummy feels better when I’m busy and doing my work, too.”
Rose sniffled, one little pointer finger tracing the glass over Ron’s half smile. “Does Daddy not love me anymore?” Hermione’s heart shattered for what seemed like the millionth time in too short a while.
“Love bug, why would you ask such a thing? Your daddy loved you so, so much. You were his best girl.”
“How come he left us, Mummy?” Her sweet little voice was so unsure.
“Oh, bug. C’mere.” She pulled the girl into her arms and sat them up on the bed, pulling her into her lap and squeezing her tight. “You know how Teddy’s mum and dad are gone, too? That they crossed over to the other side?”
She felt a little nod against her bosom and dropped a kiss on Rose’s head. “Daddy went there, too, sweetheart. He didn’t leave us because he wanted to, he left because he didn’t have a choice.”
“Because some bad people were mean and he got hurt really bad?” Rose said brokenly. Hermione closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Oh, Gods, Ron. Please help me through this.
“That’s right, bug. You’ve got it right. If Daddy could have stayed, he would have. He loved us so much. So very much.” Hermione ran her fingers up and down her daughter’s back soothingly until the little girl stopped sniffling. Then, she reached over to the nightstand to pull a couple of tissues out of a box. “Let’s wipe your nose, love.”
After she had Rose cleaned up, fed, and sent through the floo to Shell Cottage, she went to wake Hugo. Her poor babies. They were so lost without their father. Hugo had taken to horrible night terrors, reporting cloaked and hooded men in dark robes murdering his daddy night and after night. Hermione, herself, was having terrible dreams filled with loss and loneliness. She longed for a visit from Ron in her dreams. She would give just about anything for him to take her in his arms one more time, kiss her lips, pull on her curls. The hole in her heart was so large she didn’t know if she could ever fill it, but she tried.
Every day she made valiant efforts. Getting out of bed, showering, feeding and dressing her children, getting them to where they needed to be. She went to work and lost herself in her daily tasks. When she came home at the end of the day, she did school work with Rose, house work, made dinner, went shopping, paid the bills, maintained the yard, and the list went on. She had never truly realized how much Ron had done and felt terribly guilty for all the times she had nagged him.
All of a sudden, it was her job to cut the grass, bring in the post, clean the fireplace, pay the bills, take out the trash, and so much more. These were all things she had taken for granted. She had always known they were a good team; had always known he did his fair share of the work. Now, she knew it without a doubt. All his work was now hers…on top of the work she already had. Her hours disappeared if she blinked too often, and her brain never shut off. She went to bed every night with twenty things that hadn’t gotten done. Knowing the only way they would be accomplished was if she added them to the list the next day.
She was, quite frankly, overwhelmed beyond reason and contemplating hiring help. Maybe someone to cook and clean? She even thought of applying for a house elf. One that she would pay, of course.
At least that part was okay. The loss of Ron’s income had been made up with his death benefits. They would last her at least the next ten years. It was the only thing she didn’t have to worry about. Not that it mattered, the financial security meant nothing without Ron. She’d trade away every penny to have him back.
She dropped Hugo at nursery and made her way to the lifts to start her workday. At 8:50 in the morning, she had already been up for five hours, with many, many more to go before she could sleep.
* “When You’re Gone” written by Avril Lavigne, Butch Walker, and Jesse Welch. Performed by Avril Lavigne on the album The Best Damn Thing. Released 19, June, 2007.
** “These Days” written by Jeffrey Steele, Steve Robson, and Danny Wells. Performed by Rascal Flatts on the album Melt. Released 24, June, 2002.
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