Hermione Granger was angry. She was currently standing outside a rather large mansion with her knuckles turning white from the grip she held on a certain book. Glaring dangerously at the book, Hermione pushed on up the pathway, determined to approach the author.
Hermione had resolved to kill. Murder even if she had to. It had been two years after the war had ended. Everyone was trying to piece back their lives together, move on, intent on leaving the past behind on the defeat of the Dark Lord and it had been two years since Hermione left a certain man standing at the end of the altar, refusing to look back at the Bridal party as she stormed down the aisle.
Everyone had watched her as she Apparated shortly after her walk back up the aisle in her outrageous purple bridesmaid's dress and arrived at a small house on the shore of the East Indian Ocean. A few hours after the wedding catastrophe had occurred, the house owner had arrived and promised to keep Hermione's whereabouts and their friendship secret. That was how it had been for the past two years. Recently, it had all had to change.
Hermione glared as she approached the front door. She was fuming. She thought about Muggle movies that she had watched as a child and thought that she might have steam billowing out of her ears as she had seen the special affect artist make their cast do. Hermione shoved the door bell hard and listened for its echoing ring through the house.
The door opened moments later to reveal a short, light brown skinned creature, with large pointy ears and big brown round eyes. Hermione smiled at the house elf who bowed low and gracefully at her arrival. It gestured for Hermione to step into the foyer and shut the door behind her.
"Miss Granger. It is a pleasure to see you again." It wiped the front of its clothes and Hermione smiled at the fact that it was wearing tailor made clothes to fit its frame, rather than dirty old rags. "I shall find Master for you."
"You will do no such thing!" Hermione said through gritted teeth. "I will find him." She walked up the first few stairs in the foyer before turning back to the Elf and adding. "I assume he's in his stupid study?"
The elf nodded and Hermione walked away without another word. Though, she couldn't believe he still had the house elves do his dirty work for him, she was still impressed despite herself that he had them still wear clothes instead of rags. Clutching the book tighter in her hand, she marched through the halls of the oversized house. This book was the reason she had to come back into everyone's lives and Hermione hated it. She was so intent on staying away from all her friends and family that she had left behind that she had never planned on just walking back into their lives. Especially over a book.
She hadn't spoken to Ginny or Harry in little over a year. She was aware that they had a son now, James Potter and had had a high class security wedding where the Ministry had employed hundreds of Aurors for the event. Hermione of course had received her owl from Ginny asking to be Ginny's bridesmaid at her wedding. Hermione had declined however without even answering. Ginny had had no bridesmaids on the day of her wedding; she didn't even ask her sister in law, Fleur.
Then there were Ron and Luna. They had, two days previously, celebrated their engagement with a party. Hermione had once again received her invitation, but had ignored it just the same. Letters, howlers and job requests sat piled on her study at home. For years, friends and businesses had tried to contact her, find her, ask her of the truth of where she had been and gone. She had never replied and they had never found her. Sometimes she didn't even undo her mail. Her housemate used all the magic they needed and Hermione was used to the Muggle way. Hermione refused to use Magic because of the simple fact that Harry was so high up in the Ministry that he could be tracking her every move with her wand. If she used even the simplest of hair spells, Harry would appear in front of her in an instant, that she was sure of.
The book that Hermione held so firmly in her hand, had made her furious. She had seen the headlines in the Daily Prophet just the day before and immediately sent for a copy of the book to Flourish and Blotts. It had come early that morning to the anonymous requester and she made herself comfortable in her home to read it. Page after page she had read, gripping the book tighter with each passing second, reading the words that practically jumped out at her. She had finished the book and sat for a few seconds, before coming to the conclusion to kill. Sighing, she pushed through the rows of corridors and past busy house elves who were murmuring to themselves.
Hermione knew Harry or a large amount of Ministry trackers would appear shortly in the house she was so angrily stomping through. She had been so wild that she had not thought about what she was doing before she had collected her wand from her room and Apparated in front of the house. Looking down at the book, she scoffed at the title. She was really going to murder someone; Hermione had never read a book that had infuriated her so much in her life. Educational, fiction, research— nothing. She was too preoccupied with fury to come to terms with the fact that the only reason that the book had made her so furious was because every word in the book spoke the truth.
Seeing the study ahead, she fastened her pace and reached the door in three long strides. Not caring who or what was beyond the door, Hermione threw it open and let it slam against the wall. Hermione's first emotion was shock as she took in the study's appearance. She found a long rectangle table instead of the small desk that used to be stationed in the middle of the room. The walls were still lined with bookshelves, covered in various books from A to Z and there were thirteen chairs— all currently occupied. Hermione found the thirteenth chair and her shock was quickly forgotten, to be replaced with her recent aggression.
"Hermione Granger, so glad you could join us!" The boy seated at the head of the table sat up straight and clapped his hands together. "Please sit. We were just discussing business."
"It wouldn't be a sequel to this crap by any chance, would it?" She asked with venom pouring out of every word. She held the book above her head to appoint her accusation.
The boy raised his eyebrows. "No, actually. However, it does involve that particular book, Granger." He smirked. "I'm going on a book tour, signing the book for my devoted fans."
Hermione could feel her blood boil. She wanted to smack that irritating smirk off his face. She wanted to punch him for causing her humiliation. After she snapped the book shut, her first thought had been confusion, but that had soon slipped, to be replaced with anger. How could he just sit there and talk to her like nothing had happened! Like he hadn't exposed their displays of affection in that damned book!
"Devoted fans my arse!" She yelled tightening her grip on the heavy book. She considered that it would near about knock a person out if given the chance to use it as a weapon.
The head man's face lit up with amusement. "The meeting is adjourned people. If you will meet me again tomorrow, we shall continue, after our..." he paused, "disruption."
The other twelve men who occupied the room nodded, and muttered rude words to Hermione, who brushed them off. They scattered to collect folders and files before Apparating out of the room. Hermione watched the only man left in the room as he went to a small cabinet in the corner of the room. He took from it a glass and a bottle and returned to his seat, pouring himself a glass.
"Firewhiskey?" he offered. Hermione shook her head. The audacity of him, she thought, watching as he lifted the glass to his lips and then placed it delicately on the timber table, before indicating for her to take a seat in one of the now empty chairs. "You cleared the room, Granger, please take a seat. It's the least you could do," he said sarcastically.
"Stick your fire whiskey and your seating arrangements up your arse Malfoy!" She screamed throwing the book down the length of the table, just missing his hand by centimetres. "What is that bullshit?!"
Draco Malfoy smirked. Hermione took the silent moment to take a quick glance at him. His platinum blonde hair had grown a considerable amount since she last seen him. It was shaggy and fell just above his eyes and neck. His steel grey eyes looked bright as they twinkled from the sunlight that pervaded the room through the open window. His frame was still well built from all his years of playing Quidditch and working out in the gym that the Quidditch teams voted for in their fifth year. Hermione knew that there was a gym somewhere in this stupid house; she knew he wouldn't let his build slip.
"You of all people, I thought, would understand, Hermione. This," he said, picking the book up and waving it in the air, "Miss Granger, I believe is a book." He gulped the rest of his fire whiskey before throwing the book and empty glass down in front of him again. "How long did it take you to read it?"
"Two hours! And do not try to change the subject!" She said, resting her hands on the table and glaring dangerously at him. "This has to be a fraud. You cannot take anyone's personal information without their consent. There has to be a law, a business order, a contract! Something!" she screamed.
Draco frowned. "Are you quite alright Granger? Standing in my study, yelling?" He looked down at the book. "You know as well as I do Granger, that there is no law in the Wizarding world when it comes to books. There is no consent, as you say. No legal or binding contracts. I assure you, I checked it all before I began writing."
"Of course you did." Hermione muttered calmly. Her breathing was harsh as she tried to keep herself calm. It was, after all, his study as he so kindly pointed out. "But what right did you have to write a book about me? It is, after all..." she paused and smiled at Malfoy, with a half-taunting, half-sarcastic smile. "Rubbish."
Draco looked taken back as Hermione's last words rolled off her tongue. "This rubbish, Hermione," he pointed to the book in front of him for the third time, "is the truth and you know it. This book is written about mine and your Seventh Year at Hogwarts. This is a book about my engagement to a girl I didn't love, a group of students I became friends with and who had stood with me at the altar on the day of my wedding. A book about my renewed mission of attempting to kill a friend and Hermione, this is a book I wrote about a girl I fell in love with!" He stopped his tirade and smirked at Hermione, who was strumming her fingers on the table. "A book I wrote about you, the girl I fell in love with, Hermione."
Hermione felt the tears well up in her eyes as he whispered her name at the end of the statement. Biting the inside of her lip, she sighed and asked, "why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did you have to write that book? Why did you do it? You freely opened my personal information to the entire Wizarding world! Why, Draco, why?!" She noted how funny it felt saying his first name out loud, but dismissed it to wipe the tears from her face.
With her question he looked up at her with a genuine smile. Strumming his fingers across the front of the title he pulled it towards him.
"Why don't we take a look? Stay. Let me read it to you and at the end I will explain my motivation behind the book. I will explain why I wrote it. Hear me out and then decide for yourself." He waited for confirmation as she stood at the other end of the table.
"Okay," she whispered, before seating herself down next to him.
Getting the answer he wanted, he turned the cover of the book and began to read aloud the words he had already written.