Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Closer	By : Nocturne Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 29797 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling. I do not own the Harry Potter fandom, nor do I make any money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Closer
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- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
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- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16
- 17-17
- 18-18
- 19-19
- 20-20
- 21-21
- 22-22
- 23-23
- 24-24
- 25-25
- 26-26
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Kenshin Date, of the Japanese Ministry, deduced one thing regarding the couple before him. Their marriage was neither a sham, nor love, nor anything the average magic wielder could begin to understand. The only reason he seemed to grasp the dynamic of their relationship happened to be the way history had repeated itself. It felt as though he was looking through a mirror, at his own reflection, or rather, a reflection of himself at the age of twenty.

His wife Setsuna was his one true love, but their relationship hadn’t started out that way. They were arranged, practically strangers until that one fateful night. It was the night his father had passed, leaving the Date empire in Kenshin’s inexperienced hands. Setsuna had been there for him, by his side through the entire ordeal without question and without regret. It was not easy for either of them, but they powered through it and developed a lifelong bond.

“I apologize for the state of the Manor,” said young Draco, stepping forth in the lounge with a couple drinks in his hands. He handed one to Kenshin. It was wine, undoubtedly Elvish, and just under a century old judging by the taste. “We weren’t expecting you until next week, I’m afraid.”

“That is a fault of mine,” explained Kenshin. “My assistant had her dates confused. I can assure you it will not happen again.”

As Draco continued to thank him for the visit and assure him he offered no inconvenience, Kenshin found himself searching for the bride. She was standing by the window, gazing into the morning sky with her tired eyes. It didn’t take Merlin to know she, too, had been up all night but he would have bet his entire fortune it wasn’t due to jetlag. No. He knew a hangover when he saw one, and the way she cringed at the sight of wine was enough to prove him right.

Hermione Granger, they called her. Apparently she was friends with the Chosen One, Harry Potter, and suffered great adversity following Potter’s defeat. Kenshin wondered how it felt to marry a known follower of the man who killed your loved one. Just from that fleeting thought he knew this Hermione had to be one strong witch, and although he had been taught not to befriend Muggle-borns, Kenshin felt the insane urge to offer this girl solace.

He knew what it was like to feel trapped.

And when she turned to look at him, he smiled, utterly surprised when she smiled back. “Would you like something to eat? You must be famished from your journey.”

It was true. He could have eaten an entire Hippogriff at that point, having traveled via railway. Setsuna thought him insane for choosing such a mode for transportation when Port Keys and Apparition were readily available, but Kenshin enjoyed the ways of the Muggle. Plus he couldn’t risk spies or interception.

“I should be fine for now,” he lied, hoping his stomach wouldn’t rumble as soon as the words left his lips. “There are some things I would like to discuss before we catch up.”

“Ah,” rang in Draco. “Of course. Shall we take this to my study?”

“Here is fine.” Kenshin reached into his traveling cloak and lifted a roll of parchment tied with a black ribbon. “An update.”

Draco took hold of it, exchanging one look with his bride before unrolling the parchment and skimming over the contents. It took several moments before he set it down and swallowed. “Thank you for the news.”

“It is my pleasure. Your family and mine have been allies for centuries. I felt there was no choice but to inform you of the matter.”

The youngest Malfoy nodded. “Your loyalty will not be forgotten, Mr. Date. I thank you once again and urge you to rest in my home. It is the least I could do.”

“Your kindness is appreciated, Draco, but I’m afraid I must take leave before my Setsuna grows impatient.” He got up from the armchair and shook hands with the fair-haired wizard, turning and smiling as Hermione approached. He did not touch her, as was the custom of his people. He simply bowed and watched with amusement as she followed suit.

“You are always welcome in our home,” she said kindly, stumbling over the last bit. He figured that had to do with the fact that she didn’t quite feel at home herself.

~

“Are we going to talk about last night?” asked Hermione, standing beside Draco on his balcony. “Or this morning?” Truth be told, he had avoided her all day. She couldn’t remember anything from the night before and through various points in her sleep it felt as though Draco had been with her, sleeping side by side, but when she woke up the other side of the bed was empty. It was probably a dream, she told herself. But even the notion of dreaming about Draco in her bed was mindboggling.

He shrugged his shoulders. “You vomited, passed out and I took you to your room. That was all.”

For some reason the tone of his voice burned holes through her heart. He sounded faintly like the boy she remembered from Hogwarts, cold and cruel, nothing like the young man she remembered from the previous day. Whatever happened, he had no plans of telling her. That much was clear.

“What about Kenshin Date?” she furthered. “I saw your face when you read that letter…”

“It wasn’t a letter,” explained Draco. “I didn’t want to bring this up so early in our…agreement…but here. This explains everything.” He handed her the rolled parchment.

Hermione nervously took hold of it, pulling at the ribbon and unrolling the parchment until she realized it was blank. But there was something rolled inside, with it. It was a photograph, a moving photograph of something that made her heart drop down to the depths of the earth.

“It can’t be…I thought he…left…”

“He’s still gone,” assured Draco. “This was taken in a small Japanese village.”

“Then what’s the problem? He’s not in Britain. We have nothing to worry about.” But even as the words left her mouth, Hermione knew there was always a cause to worry when it came to the person staring back at her in the photograph.

“This means he’s out of hiding,” explained her husband.

“Why would he randomly go out of hiding?”

That’s when Draco turned to face her, holding both her hands in his and to her amazement, pressing them against his lips. The action made her breathing quicken.

“It’s because of us,” he said carefully. “You and I.”

“Our marriage?”

Draco nodded. “There’s a reason my father arranged for it. He wishes to lead a third assault against the Dark Lord.”

Hermione could do nothing but blink. The words went in one ear and out the other. She couldn’t register them. It was too strange, too unexpected. Lucius Malfoy was Lord Voldemort’s envoy, his beta. There was no way he would ever disobey his master.

“What does that have to do with our marriage?”

“Well, I explained it had to do with forming an alliance between our kinds,” he began. “And there’s one reason for that alliance.”

“Lucius needs the man power,” she said breathlessly, piecing it together. “He can’t do it with just the Purebloods. He needs everyone.”

“Exactly. We all do.”

“And Voldemort heard of our marriage.”

“Yes, probably.”

“So we’re officially on the cusp of a third war.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” said Draco. “We all lost so much previous times. I…I don’t know what I’d do if I lost anyone else.”

The way he spoke the last bit made her feel as though they had traveled to a distant land with just them, just her and Draco. It only sparked her curiosity further. She had to know what happened between them, if anything at all. Sure they had gotten along fairly well from what she could remember, but the way Draco was looking at her reflected something deeper than a drunken game of twenty questions.

He cared for her.

“I suppose we should make the most of the time we do have,” she said a quiet voice.

He nodded, giving her hands a squeeze. It was only then that she realized they were still holding hands. How had their relationship changed so much in the space of two days? Hermione didn’t know, but in that moment she didn’t care to know. All that mattered was the fleeting distance between her and her husband.

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Closer