Read Me -
Disclamer: These characters (the lovely Hermione and the devilishly good
looking Draco) do not belong to me, but the ingenius J. K. Rowlings and
persistant Warner Brothers Company, only because WB will sue me (for the
love of the moon goddess Selene, the sue "innocent" children) for not
insisting this disclaimer is placed, informing everybody (who already knows
Harry Potter is a trademark of Warner Brothers), that HP certainly does.
Even though the real owner of this book series belongs to the true
sorceress of words J.K Rowlings. But all the other crappy stuff belongs to
me! Enjoy and don't sue.
Chapter One: To Our Beginning
H.G. POV -
The night was a fierce monster, with the staggering blows of the wind against my fair, warn out expression. Beyond me, was a grand mansion, of a gothic manner with no trace of light except for the third window on the second story.
My legs encourage my walk to the manor of no lights and warmth, however the eerie phantoms dissuade my judgement. Still I walked. Until I reached the intricate mahongany doorways - with wooden carvings of the unknown age of dragons and a latin engraving "draconis" - I stood silently still, until my numb hands got a bland feeling and knocked persistant taps.
In a few seconds, a old man dressed in black robes and a stern, but fatherly expression was on his kind face, opened the door, persumingly he was the butler. "Hello, who may I ask is at the door, miss. And what business do you have with Mr. Malfoy."
With a nervous shudder, I replied. "I am the new au pair for a Miss Elizabeth Malfoy. My name is Hermione Amelia Minaette Victoria Granger, but you can called me Hermione." I raised my hand to offer a friendly handshake, and there he took it, with a faint smile.
"Well, Miss Granger. Nice to meet you, I am Edward Wellington, the butler of a kind Mr. Draco James Malfoy." A finely shaped eyebrow rose as I heard the words "kind," "Draco," and "Malfoy" in the same sentence.
In an instant, I grew to love this man as a grandfather I never knew, and we were in an animated discussion about the newest novel "The Inner Mind of The Sorceress Mirgana" published a few days before this following one, that was an instant success.
Written by a true sorceress with words, Virginia Weasley Longbottom (A year after the late Mrs.Longbottom graduated, the absent-minded wizard proposed to the eccentric writer and was now happily married with a third addition on the way).
As we reached the destination, my renewed grandfather came to a strange mute, tapping the door firmly. A mumbled "Come in" was heard and in we went to meet my new employer and childhood enemy, Draco Malfoy.
"Sir, it is Miss Hermione Amelia Minaette Victoria Granger for Miss Elizabeth." I gave him a shocked and bemused face as he tiredlessly teased in front of his dear dragon, and "accidently" stepped on his foot "lightly".
Holding a supressed shout, but still his face showed pain, until I felt my conscience and love for this man arising. Without a thought of who was in company, I apologized.
"I'm so sorry, Grandfather, I didn't mean too. I was a little upset you had to say my entire name, which was embarresing to me however, to Malfoy here. You could have at least excluded the Minaette Victoria part, how is anybody supposed to know my grandmother is a Latina. I'm still so very sorry, do you need some ice for your foot?"
Then reality hit me, and a faint blush crept on my cheeks as I faced a very amused and suprised Malfoy, showing no glare or resentment, almost look innocently handsome.
With his slicked blond hair with a few tresses stubbornly sticking out and his pouty crimson lips, and his wardrobe containing only the aristocratic best as if he came from the 1913's, Draco Malfoy made Witch Weekly's Top Ten List for Hottest Eligable Bachelor, Young and Devilishly Handsome every week (I was looking though, I only sought out the weekly short romance stories made by Ginny. Okay, maybe I wanted to know who was on the list, too), followed by Harry Potter and the fine retired Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood.
D.M. POV -
Also with an eyebrown raised, I spoke. "I knew from the moment I hired you that Malfoy Manor will never be the same, I don't know if it would be for the good. It certainaly will be louder. I could see it know, your infernal screams and complains of how you want the house elves to fight for their freedom when it obviously states they like working."
Was I flirting with her? The Mud- I stopped, I promised I will never be like the killer I called my father. The Muggleborn girlfriend of Scarface? Maybe some things don't change. Judging from that hidden scowl, she wasn't pleased at all. "You are right, Malfoy Manor won't be the same. There will be laughter instead of the screams of your victims, Malfoy." Ouch. In that one sentence, it surely hurt me the most when I know that people think I'm exactly like my blasted father, when I am my own person. Even now I would have thought Hermione Granger, Hogwart's best witch of all ages, knew not to judge a book by its cover, pardon the pun. One. Two. Three. The petite chestnut haired witch covered her mouth with her delicate hand and gasped. Then I spoke.
"Being my employee, you are required respective manners to me, as I am your boss. I demand respect even if I have to tame a shrew like you, Miss Granger."
My chair was now an empty seat, as I rose to face the shocked Hermione, smaller and smaller the distance between us went, until we were mere centimeters away. My lips came to her ear, as I caught a heavenly scent of white gardanias and peach blossoms, no one woman that I have been with, could have smelled so wonderful, so addicting I could have stayed forever.
"Somehow I will tame the shrew in you, Granger." And I smile in utter amusement and suprisingly for me, satisfaction, as I saw her shiver at my touch. "So what am I to call you? Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy?" This should be interesting. "Master Draco."
"What?!? Am I supposed to call you Master Draco? Do you want me to commit suicide?" Before I knew it, she was against my finely painted wall of a forest green, both of my arms trapping her, with a look of sheer innocence and fear, exactly like a little rabbit cornered by the dominating viper.
"Say it or I'll never let you go and a Malfoy always keeps his promise." Still her lips were kept tight, very kissable lips at that. Then silently and deadly, I lightly trailed my lips against her soft skin, sending yet another irresistable shiver down her spine. With her eyes close, Granger looked like she was enjoying this. Was I? Certainly. Just before my lips were upon hers, I asked once again, "How do you address me?"
H.G. POV -
My breathing went rather heavy, as I felt Malfoy's soft cherry lips against my alabaster skin, sprinkled with scarce freckles. After my heart missed a beat, I spoke with a present stutter. "Malfoy."
I still had my pride and needed to save my reputation for the time being. Big mistake that was. Suddenly I felt his lips upon mine, with a fiery passion of a man's thirst from a journey across the many dunes of sand. Almost as if he needed this kiss, and my knees grew weak at the thought of any man needing me, especially Dra- Malfoy. The tongue explored unknown regions of my mouth, as I gave a moan of pleasure and I could feel his mouth turning into a smile. I was enjoying this greatly, but I didn't want my new employer to know.
A thought came through my head: this was wrong, very wrong. It drove me to part the kiss, disappointed as I was. From the expression on the seducive dragon's face, he too, was disappointed on the lighter sense.
Afraid of the consequences of the kiss, I started my way to the door, as if I was walking away from fear and the warmth I felt when our lips met and the feeling of content. I was afraid and I knew it was something I waited for all my life: l-o-v-e.
At this I dare not speak the word and banish from my mind. Thinking it was attraction and lust, I started my leave, until I felt gentle arms surrounding my narrow waist and the warmth of his body along next to mine.
His lovely lips caressing my ear again, whispering. "Are you to apologize your rudeness and disrepect towards me and call me Master Draco?" His voice a pleading child, yet my pride was a determined spirit, unwilling to anything and I knew that this would create trouble for me.
"Never." I replied. "Why should I deny anything if the words coming from my lips are true? I'll never surrender to lies, Malfoy."
With another wince soming from the dragon, he whispered in a rather husky and seducing manner that made me almost render to his wishes, almost.
"Too bad. ::nibbling playfully on my ear, sending chills and shiver and gaining a smile from Malfoy:: You must pay the consequences. Next Sunday, go to the master bedroom on the third corridor with the emblem of a silver dragon at midnight. Don't. Wear. Anything." Shocked and greatly terrified, I tried to speak or yell or anything that might stop this insanity, but he placed a finger upon my lips, silencing me, however my eyes couldn't stop showing my expression: worry, lust, fear, pain, remembering old memories that turned to nightmares, and surpisingly, the want of this riducules sensation.
"No, my little, shrewish rabbit. No objections. This is a lesson to tame that spirit and render to the dragon. Sweet dreams, my little Latina conejo." With a sugary kiss on my forehead, I could feel a half smile on my lips, at the sight of Malfoy speaking sweet words in the most romantic language in the world, to me that is and this damn feeling of reassurance.
As Malfoy brushed pass me, I only could stand there, with no feeling in my legs, but warm, floaty tingles daring to cross the unknown regions of my soul.
Why did this obsession with lust suddenly come to me when I needed it the most to not be there? To many years of reading Ginny's work with oversized pajamas and chocolate that I pretended a lover has given to me on cold rainy nights? Or is it, too many years of being alone? At twenty?
And there in Malfoy's study room, a tear dared to fall across my porceline face since the fateful night 9 years ago.
***
H.G. POV -
After a night of crying myself to sleep, a night of reminscing forgotten painful memories and the confusion arising between the dragon and rabbit, I awoke to the seething brightness of the morning sun. "Bloody sun."
The next thing shocked me to the farthest extent. A pair of emerald eyes, innocent and lively as the warm grass covered with tiny chystals of dew, stared back with curiousity.
As I painfully fell off my bed, I could hear musical laughter fill my room. "You are silly. Are you my new nanny? You really are pretty. Prettier than all the other old ladies and that Park-N-Yuck lady that always comes to Dracie's house."
This little gift from heaven scrunched her nose at the mention of this "Park-N-Yuck." I was terrified of this eccentric child, as I watched her bounce up and down on my poor misplace bed.
Never in my life have I pictured myself in the childcare of a child, but now I am stuck with her. She was an adorable picture to look at, with a long mane of a snowy gold hair, almost white, but not quite, another trade mark of a Malfoy. And her eyes was something of blunder to me, it was exactly like Harry's. Beautifully green.
Just like Grandfather Ed, I instantly loved this girl, until she played a innocent prank, reminding me of the Weasley Twins: Gred and Feorge.
Miss Elizabeth took my precious bunny slippers that Harry gave me. Those were my favorite possesion because, of course, they were given by someone who I dearly loved. A blush crept to my cheeks and started to chase after the little Elle who stolen my bunnies.
"Elle! Elle! You give me back my bunnies! Those were from Harry! Elle!" Like Malfoy said, the Manor was filled with my desperate shouts and her continuing laughs.
The maids, who were in the rank a little higher than house elves, just gave a small laugh and continued working, thinking about a young maiden that will change this place forever. "Elle! You come back here and give me those slippers. I'll give you a chocolate frog! Elle!"
Finally, I drew my wand - willow, 9 and 1/2 inches, swishy, good for transfiguration - and did the extreme. My wigardium leviosa, sending the giggling girl flying with the fuzzy pink bunnies towards me, until Malfoy got in the way, looking stupidly sexy with his trousled bed head, getting knocked down in the process with this little girl in her arms.
"Ellie. What did I tell you about flying in the corridors?" he said in the utmost kindness of voices. Daring to walk up to the tumbling terrors, persuaded by the fatherly expression on the dragon's face and love in his voice, I hovered over Malfoy and the little angel he called his "baby" sister.
"And what did I tell you about hovering my baby sister in the corridors, little lady?" I tried to stiffle my laugh from Malfoy's joke. But all else failed and I laughed. So the cold hearted snake has a sense of humor and a heart? With his hair laid on the floor in the form of a gold halo, I asked him if he needed help on getting up, with a nervous voice, from doing a nice thing to a Malfoy. Another big mistake.
When he grabbed me hand, I was pulled forward towards the idiot pile, lying on top of the dragon with his sister on the side. There I witnessed a true laugh from Draco, it was a baritone musical that filled the whole room with his glow. I came to one conclusion.
Draco James Malfoy was the most handsome wizard I have ever known and he was indeed a human.
Handing my bunnies to me, Elle, a nickname I dubbed for her this morning, smiled and truely she was her brother's sister. "I think this is yours. It's so precious to you 'cause it's from your boyfriend, that Harry guy. I hope he is at least cute."
The ten year old naive minded girl stood and dusted off her pink nightgown, which I should add, made her years younger. And then there I grew to hate Malfoy once again.
D.M. POV -
At Scarface's name, I ended my laughter and gritted my pearly whites with a growing anger inside my heart.
"So that's why you cared so much about those stupid slippers that you even risked my sister's safety, because its from Scarface. I knew he is rich and famous, but I didn't know you were that desperate." I spat at her with a cold tone.
Why was I itching to wring Potter's stupid neck until he promises to leave Hermione alone? Hermione? Did I call the Potter's girlfriend Hermione? Why did I feel so infuriated that those damn slippers were so important to her? These questions continuingly cascaded down my head, as I could only place one thought in my head: Potter. Potter. And Hermione. Hermione? I needed to leave, anything to escape the now red face of a Miss Hermione Granger, as she raised a hand to slap me. Reflexes were the outcome of the beatings from my retched father, and I used my quick reflexes to catch her tiny wrist in mid air.
"Don't you dare slap me. I am not that scrawny twelve year old boy anymore, I grew up. I am your master and you shall respect me. That's why you are in the current state you are now. You need money, but I expect a job well done. You get another punishment. For the week I am gone, you are to work for Pansy Parkinson. She is visting the Manor to see that everything is in top shape. Got it? Every order you shall obey her."
The several winces she displayed and the horror stricken face almost made me regret the cruel actions I order to her. But in my current state, she was the one root that created all this intensity and I needed to blame something, anything, for these foreign emotions I felt.
I was confused. Walking away, I suddenly stopped when the realization hit me. Was I jealous of Potter?
H.G. POV -
Damn him. Damn Malfoy! When I started to think Malfoy was human, he had to prove himself wrong and acted like a Malfoy.
They are all the same, filthy reach and immensly cold-hearted, and blond of course. A hand laid on my shoulder and I turned around to see a tearful Elle.
"I'm sorry for all the trouble I cause. Dracie isn't bad, he is just jealous and let's his anger overwhelm him. Sometimes when I see his scars, I feel like crying. My brother is just lonely. He needs someone to love him!" Facing her face to face, I hugged her contently and my anger gradually subsided and turned into mother mode.
"Doesn't he have you to love him?" Stubbornly she shook her head, the blond tresses flying everywhere. "No, he needs a different kind of love. You know I have an idea. Why don't you love him? You are pretty and nice and you made him laugh, not like that Park-N-Yuck witch!"
I stared at her with a disbelieving look. "Listen to me, sweety. I don't think I can love your brother, I'm too mad at him right now. Even if I did love Draco, your brother would never let anyone love him. And it's not you fault, I understand. Now why don't you go to your room and get ready for breakfast." With a teary smile, she stalked away, leaving me with a head full of questions.
Why did Malfoy get as angry and sarcastically cold as he was? Was he really jealous? Of what, or better yet, of who? Was Malfoy jealous of Harry because of me?
At my question, I blushed a crimson red, with my freckles turning a brighter shade. It couldn't be, could it?
I walked away from this incident a new person, confused and the pink bunny slippers in hand, that created so much tears. Once I reached my room, I slid on the door and cried, cried for Elle, cried for Malfoy, cried for Harry, and most of all I cried because I was scared of these feelings that turned me into a confused, wandering child, instead of my regular know-it- all self, the someone who knew the answers to every questions.
But who would know anything in the field of emotions, certainly not me. Across the room, I spotted a parchment and an automatic inked quill (the newest invention of the amazing Weasley twins, except this was just a brilliant device and not a childish prank) and started to write to Harry.
Letters to Harry consisted of lies I made up to reassure everyone that my life in Malfoy Manor was everything we expected it to be, when it was quite the opposite. With a Draco-free week, I would forget about him and go back to the know-it-all I once knew. I didn't know it would be quite the opposite.
***
H.G. POV -
A week passed. The longest, most horrid week in my life, where I experienced more pain than I have ever lived through in my 20 years.
As the daybreak pass, when the moon shines brightly on my windowsill, and the night was a blanket of sapphire blue tinted with tiny diamonds of stars, this was my resting time. Time for tears and healing my bruises and scars.
One thought kept my alive through all this. "This is just for one week."
The next morning, I expected Park-N-Slut's morning shriek, waking me up for yet another pain-staking day of labor and punishments. When I realized I was comfortably in my old bedroom, and not in some grungy dungeon which I inhabitated for the past week, and another thought came to my mind.
"This must be some plan of Parkinson. So when Malfoy comes, he won't suspect anything. Like I even care if he is concerned." However I knew this was a plain lie, I wished that my dragon in shining armor would rescue me from this monster of a woman and cradle me in his arms, like the many times he did before.
Wasn't that all an act to humiliate me like all Slytherins have done many times before? But I couldn't conclude to say yes to this question because the only thought in my mind was the act of human emotions he displayed a week ago. When Draco almost seemed human...
On my pillow next to mine, I found a package carefully wrapped in shimmering gold wrapping paper and a silk ribbon that looked as if it was an illusion of golden material. But the one thing that drew me far away from reality was the white rose.
It was a symbol of friendship and beauty in the language of flowers. From Draco? Like so many times in the love stories, there was always a rose from man to woman. Something I wished would be a reality for me.
A letter with a "Hermione" written in beautiful caligraphy of gold ink. With nerving hands and a quiver, I drew the letter from the envelope that sent shivers down my spine, I read the "love" letter whole-heartedly. It read.
Dear beautiful Hermione,
Due to some circumstances, you are in waiting of a rendezvous with me in my bed quarters tonight. Enclosed in the package is the attire you should wear. Take it in good care for it was something of my blessed mother, use it well.
Until tonight, fair conejo...
When my eyes finished reading the letter and my heart absorbing the romancing of Draco, I dropped the letter that was tainted with my tears. This would be my first love letter, and it was from the enemy I gained from the past seven years and a somehow I grew to know for two crazy weeks.
And it scared me, when I read the letter I could smell his scent, I would imagine his face, and my heart would be unnaturally fast. I didn't want to feel this feeling of happiness for Draco Malfoy.
He wasn't just a Malfoy anymore, he was a danger to me. An addiction that would soon lead me to my bloody end with tears. An infatuation that would ruin my life and my reputation.
Something that could be worth it, a game to be played until the sands of the hour glass is gone. To leave both souls with only a memory of the mock expression of love. For now, I will play this game. For now, I will enjoy in the bask of his romancing and mockery love. For now, I will pretend to be in love with the seducing dragon.
Carefully, I opened the package, half expecting Voldemort to spring out and Avada Kedarva me and half expecting another romantic object to bring me back into tears. The latter was the one I found in the box. (I hope you know which one it was. Use common sense, if you had any) I watched in amazement as the colors of robe blended and danced as if bewitched. It probably was.
This was no ordinary robe, it was styled in the modern Japanese kimono, except extraordinarally cut short in the upper thigh. The emerald green and glittering silver, the colors of the Slytherin House, kimono left no space for imagination. At this thought, I blushed once again.
Daring not to touch it, as I was afraid it was too delicate to touch and more importantly too exquisite, my hand brushed against the silky fabric, until I grew my courage enough, I wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, to hold it against my cheek, amazed at the softness of a belonging of a Malfoy. Until I felt the salty tears trailing on the precious robes.
I couldn't take it anymore, this unjust game of love and lust was uncontrolably unfair and painful.
"I need to stop this midnight rendezvous with Malfoy before I end up drowning in my tears. I still want my dignity and pride." Everything around me seemed oblivious to my thoughts, as I ran through the corridors to Malfoy's master quarters.
When I reached my destination, my fists banged on the door, persistant and strong, unlike my demeanor at that very moment, I was a vulnerable mess, my brown locks were free of the plain pearly hair clip and my eyes a bloodshot red from crying.
"Open the fucking door, Malfoy! Open it right now. I want to talk. I don't want to do this anymore! Stop..." The last word was almost a lingering silence, as I wimpered on the floor, my hands tangled in the curly mass of hair.
Malfoy's door sprang open, and sooner or later, I felt a warm pair of arms carrying me towards his bed. Him. I knew it was him, from his scent and warmth, and of course, this was his room. "Malfoy, let me go. Please. I don't need this right now. We need to talk." I wimpered effortlessly, but failing indeed.
"Hush. You are no shape to be yelling at the top of your lungs at me. Now sleep." The norcotic of his husky, melodious voice almost lure me into sleep, but as I am, I kept fighting.
"Malfoy. It should be a sin to have a seducing voice like that. That's why I can't play this game anymore. I can't pretend that we are both desperately in love so we can satisfy our lonliness. What if we do something we might both regret?"
Time passed, as I continually stared into his eyes, drowning in the intense storm of massive grey eyes. Coming close to me, his arms reached for a lover's embrace, I tried to pull away, but his burly grip was more persistant. Honestly, I didn't want to leave.
"Then let it be. Let's pretend that we are lovers, only until you leave because I know I can't resist you while you're here. You are too irresistable." Again for the second time in two weeks, our lips met in a passionate kiss, setting a bonfire in the cold regions of our hearts.
Something that almost felt like love. What we both didn't realize was that I was crying joyful tears, that trailed upon my skin and his. Playing innocent butterfly kisses where my tears lay, soon enough, they disapeared from the contact of his warm, sweet kisses.
'You are too irresistable.' Those words played in my head, like a broken record that seemed to never to stop. Pure lust? Or a precious form of love?
From the migrane I gathered from my screaming and the musty scent of evergreens and mint from Draco, a pleasant sleep came over me, and I slept soundly, for the first time in a week.
Chapter One: To Our Beginning
H.G. POV -
The night was a fierce monster, with the staggering blows of the wind against my fair, warn out expression. Beyond me, was a grand mansion, of a gothic manner with no trace of light except for the third window on the second story.
My legs encourage my walk to the manor of no lights and warmth, however the eerie phantoms dissuade my judgement. Still I walked. Until I reached the intricate mahongany doorways - with wooden carvings of the unknown age of dragons and a latin engraving "draconis" - I stood silently still, until my numb hands got a bland feeling and knocked persistant taps.
In a few seconds, a old man dressed in black robes and a stern, but fatherly expression was on his kind face, opened the door, persumingly he was the butler. "Hello, who may I ask is at the door, miss. And what business do you have with Mr. Malfoy."
With a nervous shudder, I replied. "I am the new au pair for a Miss Elizabeth Malfoy. My name is Hermione Amelia Minaette Victoria Granger, but you can called me Hermione." I raised my hand to offer a friendly handshake, and there he took it, with a faint smile.
"Well, Miss Granger. Nice to meet you, I am Edward Wellington, the butler of a kind Mr. Draco James Malfoy." A finely shaped eyebrow rose as I heard the words "kind," "Draco," and "Malfoy" in the same sentence.
In an instant, I grew to love this man as a grandfather I never knew, and we were in an animated discussion about the newest novel "The Inner Mind of The Sorceress Mirgana" published a few days before this following one, that was an instant success.
Written by a true sorceress with words, Virginia Weasley Longbottom (A year after the late Mrs.Longbottom graduated, the absent-minded wizard proposed to the eccentric writer and was now happily married with a third addition on the way).
As we reached the destination, my renewed grandfather came to a strange mute, tapping the door firmly. A mumbled "Come in" was heard and in we went to meet my new employer and childhood enemy, Draco Malfoy.
"Sir, it is Miss Hermione Amelia Minaette Victoria Granger for Miss Elizabeth." I gave him a shocked and bemused face as he tiredlessly teased in front of his dear dragon, and "accidently" stepped on his foot "lightly".
Holding a supressed shout, but still his face showed pain, until I felt my conscience and love for this man arising. Without a thought of who was in company, I apologized.
"I'm so sorry, Grandfather, I didn't mean too. I was a little upset you had to say my entire name, which was embarresing to me however, to Malfoy here. You could have at least excluded the Minaette Victoria part, how is anybody supposed to know my grandmother is a Latina. I'm still so very sorry, do you need some ice for your foot?"
Then reality hit me, and a faint blush crept on my cheeks as I faced a very amused and suprised Malfoy, showing no glare or resentment, almost look innocently handsome.
With his slicked blond hair with a few tresses stubbornly sticking out and his pouty crimson lips, and his wardrobe containing only the aristocratic best as if he came from the 1913's, Draco Malfoy made Witch Weekly's Top Ten List for Hottest Eligable Bachelor, Young and Devilishly Handsome every week (I was looking though, I only sought out the weekly short romance stories made by Ginny. Okay, maybe I wanted to know who was on the list, too), followed by Harry Potter and the fine retired Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood.
D.M. POV -
Also with an eyebrown raised, I spoke. "I knew from the moment I hired you that Malfoy Manor will never be the same, I don't know if it would be for the good. It certainaly will be louder. I could see it know, your infernal screams and complains of how you want the house elves to fight for their freedom when it obviously states they like working."
Was I flirting with her? The Mud- I stopped, I promised I will never be like the killer I called my father. The Muggleborn girlfriend of Scarface? Maybe some things don't change. Judging from that hidden scowl, she wasn't pleased at all. "You are right, Malfoy Manor won't be the same. There will be laughter instead of the screams of your victims, Malfoy." Ouch. In that one sentence, it surely hurt me the most when I know that people think I'm exactly like my blasted father, when I am my own person. Even now I would have thought Hermione Granger, Hogwart's best witch of all ages, knew not to judge a book by its cover, pardon the pun. One. Two. Three. The petite chestnut haired witch covered her mouth with her delicate hand and gasped. Then I spoke.
"Being my employee, you are required respective manners to me, as I am your boss. I demand respect even if I have to tame a shrew like you, Miss Granger."
My chair was now an empty seat, as I rose to face the shocked Hermione, smaller and smaller the distance between us went, until we were mere centimeters away. My lips came to her ear, as I caught a heavenly scent of white gardanias and peach blossoms, no one woman that I have been with, could have smelled so wonderful, so addicting I could have stayed forever.
"Somehow I will tame the shrew in you, Granger." And I smile in utter amusement and suprisingly for me, satisfaction, as I saw her shiver at my touch. "So what am I to call you? Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy?" This should be interesting. "Master Draco."
"What?!? Am I supposed to call you Master Draco? Do you want me to commit suicide?" Before I knew it, she was against my finely painted wall of a forest green, both of my arms trapping her, with a look of sheer innocence and fear, exactly like a little rabbit cornered by the dominating viper.
"Say it or I'll never let you go and a Malfoy always keeps his promise." Still her lips were kept tight, very kissable lips at that. Then silently and deadly, I lightly trailed my lips against her soft skin, sending yet another irresistable shiver down her spine. With her eyes close, Granger looked like she was enjoying this. Was I? Certainly. Just before my lips were upon hers, I asked once again, "How do you address me?"
H.G. POV -
My breathing went rather heavy, as I felt Malfoy's soft cherry lips against my alabaster skin, sprinkled with scarce freckles. After my heart missed a beat, I spoke with a present stutter. "Malfoy."
I still had my pride and needed to save my reputation for the time being. Big mistake that was. Suddenly I felt his lips upon mine, with a fiery passion of a man's thirst from a journey across the many dunes of sand. Almost as if he needed this kiss, and my knees grew weak at the thought of any man needing me, especially Dra- Malfoy. The tongue explored unknown regions of my mouth, as I gave a moan of pleasure and I could feel his mouth turning into a smile. I was enjoying this greatly, but I didn't want my new employer to know.
A thought came through my head: this was wrong, very wrong. It drove me to part the kiss, disappointed as I was. From the expression on the seducive dragon's face, he too, was disappointed on the lighter sense.
Afraid of the consequences of the kiss, I started my way to the door, as if I was walking away from fear and the warmth I felt when our lips met and the feeling of content. I was afraid and I knew it was something I waited for all my life: l-o-v-e.
At this I dare not speak the word and banish from my mind. Thinking it was attraction and lust, I started my leave, until I felt gentle arms surrounding my narrow waist and the warmth of his body along next to mine.
His lovely lips caressing my ear again, whispering. "Are you to apologize your rudeness and disrepect towards me and call me Master Draco?" His voice a pleading child, yet my pride was a determined spirit, unwilling to anything and I knew that this would create trouble for me.
"Never." I replied. "Why should I deny anything if the words coming from my lips are true? I'll never surrender to lies, Malfoy."
With another wince soming from the dragon, he whispered in a rather husky and seducing manner that made me almost render to his wishes, almost.
"Too bad. ::nibbling playfully on my ear, sending chills and shiver and gaining a smile from Malfoy:: You must pay the consequences. Next Sunday, go to the master bedroom on the third corridor with the emblem of a silver dragon at midnight. Don't. Wear. Anything." Shocked and greatly terrified, I tried to speak or yell or anything that might stop this insanity, but he placed a finger upon my lips, silencing me, however my eyes couldn't stop showing my expression: worry, lust, fear, pain, remembering old memories that turned to nightmares, and surpisingly, the want of this riducules sensation.
"No, my little, shrewish rabbit. No objections. This is a lesson to tame that spirit and render to the dragon. Sweet dreams, my little Latina conejo." With a sugary kiss on my forehead, I could feel a half smile on my lips, at the sight of Malfoy speaking sweet words in the most romantic language in the world, to me that is and this damn feeling of reassurance.
As Malfoy brushed pass me, I only could stand there, with no feeling in my legs, but warm, floaty tingles daring to cross the unknown regions of my soul.
Why did this obsession with lust suddenly come to me when I needed it the most to not be there? To many years of reading Ginny's work with oversized pajamas and chocolate that I pretended a lover has given to me on cold rainy nights? Or is it, too many years of being alone? At twenty?
And there in Malfoy's study room, a tear dared to fall across my porceline face since the fateful night 9 years ago.
***
H.G. POV -
After a night of crying myself to sleep, a night of reminscing forgotten painful memories and the confusion arising between the dragon and rabbit, I awoke to the seething brightness of the morning sun. "Bloody sun."
The next thing shocked me to the farthest extent. A pair of emerald eyes, innocent and lively as the warm grass covered with tiny chystals of dew, stared back with curiousity.
As I painfully fell off my bed, I could hear musical laughter fill my room. "You are silly. Are you my new nanny? You really are pretty. Prettier than all the other old ladies and that Park-N-Yuck lady that always comes to Dracie's house."
This little gift from heaven scrunched her nose at the mention of this "Park-N-Yuck." I was terrified of this eccentric child, as I watched her bounce up and down on my poor misplace bed.
Never in my life have I pictured myself in the childcare of a child, but now I am stuck with her. She was an adorable picture to look at, with a long mane of a snowy gold hair, almost white, but not quite, another trade mark of a Malfoy. And her eyes was something of blunder to me, it was exactly like Harry's. Beautifully green.
Just like Grandfather Ed, I instantly loved this girl, until she played a innocent prank, reminding me of the Weasley Twins: Gred and Feorge.
Miss Elizabeth took my precious bunny slippers that Harry gave me. Those were my favorite possesion because, of course, they were given by someone who I dearly loved. A blush crept to my cheeks and started to chase after the little Elle who stolen my bunnies.
"Elle! Elle! You give me back my bunnies! Those were from Harry! Elle!" Like Malfoy said, the Manor was filled with my desperate shouts and her continuing laughs.
The maids, who were in the rank a little higher than house elves, just gave a small laugh and continued working, thinking about a young maiden that will change this place forever. "Elle! You come back here and give me those slippers. I'll give you a chocolate frog! Elle!"
Finally, I drew my wand - willow, 9 and 1/2 inches, swishy, good for transfiguration - and did the extreme. My wigardium leviosa, sending the giggling girl flying with the fuzzy pink bunnies towards me, until Malfoy got in the way, looking stupidly sexy with his trousled bed head, getting knocked down in the process with this little girl in her arms.
"Ellie. What did I tell you about flying in the corridors?" he said in the utmost kindness of voices. Daring to walk up to the tumbling terrors, persuaded by the fatherly expression on the dragon's face and love in his voice, I hovered over Malfoy and the little angel he called his "baby" sister.
"And what did I tell you about hovering my baby sister in the corridors, little lady?" I tried to stiffle my laugh from Malfoy's joke. But all else failed and I laughed. So the cold hearted snake has a sense of humor and a heart? With his hair laid on the floor in the form of a gold halo, I asked him if he needed help on getting up, with a nervous voice, from doing a nice thing to a Malfoy. Another big mistake.
When he grabbed me hand, I was pulled forward towards the idiot pile, lying on top of the dragon with his sister on the side. There I witnessed a true laugh from Draco, it was a baritone musical that filled the whole room with his glow. I came to one conclusion.
Draco James Malfoy was the most handsome wizard I have ever known and he was indeed a human.
Handing my bunnies to me, Elle, a nickname I dubbed for her this morning, smiled and truely she was her brother's sister. "I think this is yours. It's so precious to you 'cause it's from your boyfriend, that Harry guy. I hope he is at least cute."
The ten year old naive minded girl stood and dusted off her pink nightgown, which I should add, made her years younger. And then there I grew to hate Malfoy once again.
D.M. POV -
At Scarface's name, I ended my laughter and gritted my pearly whites with a growing anger inside my heart.
"So that's why you cared so much about those stupid slippers that you even risked my sister's safety, because its from Scarface. I knew he is rich and famous, but I didn't know you were that desperate." I spat at her with a cold tone.
Why was I itching to wring Potter's stupid neck until he promises to leave Hermione alone? Hermione? Did I call the Potter's girlfriend Hermione? Why did I feel so infuriated that those damn slippers were so important to her? These questions continuingly cascaded down my head, as I could only place one thought in my head: Potter. Potter. And Hermione. Hermione? I needed to leave, anything to escape the now red face of a Miss Hermione Granger, as she raised a hand to slap me. Reflexes were the outcome of the beatings from my retched father, and I used my quick reflexes to catch her tiny wrist in mid air.
"Don't you dare slap me. I am not that scrawny twelve year old boy anymore, I grew up. I am your master and you shall respect me. That's why you are in the current state you are now. You need money, but I expect a job well done. You get another punishment. For the week I am gone, you are to work for Pansy Parkinson. She is visting the Manor to see that everything is in top shape. Got it? Every order you shall obey her."
The several winces she displayed and the horror stricken face almost made me regret the cruel actions I order to her. But in my current state, she was the one root that created all this intensity and I needed to blame something, anything, for these foreign emotions I felt.
I was confused. Walking away, I suddenly stopped when the realization hit me. Was I jealous of Potter?
H.G. POV -
Damn him. Damn Malfoy! When I started to think Malfoy was human, he had to prove himself wrong and acted like a Malfoy.
They are all the same, filthy reach and immensly cold-hearted, and blond of course. A hand laid on my shoulder and I turned around to see a tearful Elle.
"I'm sorry for all the trouble I cause. Dracie isn't bad, he is just jealous and let's his anger overwhelm him. Sometimes when I see his scars, I feel like crying. My brother is just lonely. He needs someone to love him!" Facing her face to face, I hugged her contently and my anger gradually subsided and turned into mother mode.
"Doesn't he have you to love him?" Stubbornly she shook her head, the blond tresses flying everywhere. "No, he needs a different kind of love. You know I have an idea. Why don't you love him? You are pretty and nice and you made him laugh, not like that Park-N-Yuck witch!"
I stared at her with a disbelieving look. "Listen to me, sweety. I don't think I can love your brother, I'm too mad at him right now. Even if I did love Draco, your brother would never let anyone love him. And it's not you fault, I understand. Now why don't you go to your room and get ready for breakfast." With a teary smile, she stalked away, leaving me with a head full of questions.
Why did Malfoy get as angry and sarcastically cold as he was? Was he really jealous? Of what, or better yet, of who? Was Malfoy jealous of Harry because of me?
At my question, I blushed a crimson red, with my freckles turning a brighter shade. It couldn't be, could it?
I walked away from this incident a new person, confused and the pink bunny slippers in hand, that created so much tears. Once I reached my room, I slid on the door and cried, cried for Elle, cried for Malfoy, cried for Harry, and most of all I cried because I was scared of these feelings that turned me into a confused, wandering child, instead of my regular know-it- all self, the someone who knew the answers to every questions.
But who would know anything in the field of emotions, certainly not me. Across the room, I spotted a parchment and an automatic inked quill (the newest invention of the amazing Weasley twins, except this was just a brilliant device and not a childish prank) and started to write to Harry.
Letters to Harry consisted of lies I made up to reassure everyone that my life in Malfoy Manor was everything we expected it to be, when it was quite the opposite. With a Draco-free week, I would forget about him and go back to the know-it-all I once knew. I didn't know it would be quite the opposite.
***
H.G. POV -
A week passed. The longest, most horrid week in my life, where I experienced more pain than I have ever lived through in my 20 years.
As the daybreak pass, when the moon shines brightly on my windowsill, and the night was a blanket of sapphire blue tinted with tiny diamonds of stars, this was my resting time. Time for tears and healing my bruises and scars.
One thought kept my alive through all this. "This is just for one week."
The next morning, I expected Park-N-Slut's morning shriek, waking me up for yet another pain-staking day of labor and punishments. When I realized I was comfortably in my old bedroom, and not in some grungy dungeon which I inhabitated for the past week, and another thought came to my mind.
"This must be some plan of Parkinson. So when Malfoy comes, he won't suspect anything. Like I even care if he is concerned." However I knew this was a plain lie, I wished that my dragon in shining armor would rescue me from this monster of a woman and cradle me in his arms, like the many times he did before.
Wasn't that all an act to humiliate me like all Slytherins have done many times before? But I couldn't conclude to say yes to this question because the only thought in my mind was the act of human emotions he displayed a week ago. When Draco almost seemed human...
On my pillow next to mine, I found a package carefully wrapped in shimmering gold wrapping paper and a silk ribbon that looked as if it was an illusion of golden material. But the one thing that drew me far away from reality was the white rose.
It was a symbol of friendship and beauty in the language of flowers. From Draco? Like so many times in the love stories, there was always a rose from man to woman. Something I wished would be a reality for me.
A letter with a "Hermione" written in beautiful caligraphy of gold ink. With nerving hands and a quiver, I drew the letter from the envelope that sent shivers down my spine, I read the "love" letter whole-heartedly. It read.
Dear beautiful Hermione,
Due to some circumstances, you are in waiting of a rendezvous with me in my bed quarters tonight. Enclosed in the package is the attire you should wear. Take it in good care for it was something of my blessed mother, use it well.
Until tonight, fair conejo...
When my eyes finished reading the letter and my heart absorbing the romancing of Draco, I dropped the letter that was tainted with my tears. This would be my first love letter, and it was from the enemy I gained from the past seven years and a somehow I grew to know for two crazy weeks.
And it scared me, when I read the letter I could smell his scent, I would imagine his face, and my heart would be unnaturally fast. I didn't want to feel this feeling of happiness for Draco Malfoy.
He wasn't just a Malfoy anymore, he was a danger to me. An addiction that would soon lead me to my bloody end with tears. An infatuation that would ruin my life and my reputation.
Something that could be worth it, a game to be played until the sands of the hour glass is gone. To leave both souls with only a memory of the mock expression of love. For now, I will play this game. For now, I will enjoy in the bask of his romancing and mockery love. For now, I will pretend to be in love with the seducing dragon.
Carefully, I opened the package, half expecting Voldemort to spring out and Avada Kedarva me and half expecting another romantic object to bring me back into tears. The latter was the one I found in the box. (I hope you know which one it was. Use common sense, if you had any) I watched in amazement as the colors of robe blended and danced as if bewitched. It probably was.
This was no ordinary robe, it was styled in the modern Japanese kimono, except extraordinarally cut short in the upper thigh. The emerald green and glittering silver, the colors of the Slytherin House, kimono left no space for imagination. At this thought, I blushed once again.
Daring not to touch it, as I was afraid it was too delicate to touch and more importantly too exquisite, my hand brushed against the silky fabric, until I grew my courage enough, I wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, to hold it against my cheek, amazed at the softness of a belonging of a Malfoy. Until I felt the salty tears trailing on the precious robes.
I couldn't take it anymore, this unjust game of love and lust was uncontrolably unfair and painful.
"I need to stop this midnight rendezvous with Malfoy before I end up drowning in my tears. I still want my dignity and pride." Everything around me seemed oblivious to my thoughts, as I ran through the corridors to Malfoy's master quarters.
When I reached my destination, my fists banged on the door, persistant and strong, unlike my demeanor at that very moment, I was a vulnerable mess, my brown locks were free of the plain pearly hair clip and my eyes a bloodshot red from crying.
"Open the fucking door, Malfoy! Open it right now. I want to talk. I don't want to do this anymore! Stop..." The last word was almost a lingering silence, as I wimpered on the floor, my hands tangled in the curly mass of hair.
Malfoy's door sprang open, and sooner or later, I felt a warm pair of arms carrying me towards his bed. Him. I knew it was him, from his scent and warmth, and of course, this was his room. "Malfoy, let me go. Please. I don't need this right now. We need to talk." I wimpered effortlessly, but failing indeed.
"Hush. You are no shape to be yelling at the top of your lungs at me. Now sleep." The norcotic of his husky, melodious voice almost lure me into sleep, but as I am, I kept fighting.
"Malfoy. It should be a sin to have a seducing voice like that. That's why I can't play this game anymore. I can't pretend that we are both desperately in love so we can satisfy our lonliness. What if we do something we might both regret?"
Time passed, as I continually stared into his eyes, drowning in the intense storm of massive grey eyes. Coming close to me, his arms reached for a lover's embrace, I tried to pull away, but his burly grip was more persistant. Honestly, I didn't want to leave.
"Then let it be. Let's pretend that we are lovers, only until you leave because I know I can't resist you while you're here. You are too irresistable." Again for the second time in two weeks, our lips met in a passionate kiss, setting a bonfire in the cold regions of our hearts.
Something that almost felt like love. What we both didn't realize was that I was crying joyful tears, that trailed upon my skin and his. Playing innocent butterfly kisses where my tears lay, soon enough, they disapeared from the contact of his warm, sweet kisses.
'You are too irresistable.' Those words played in my head, like a broken record that seemed to never to stop. Pure lust? Or a precious form of love?
From the migrane I gathered from my screaming and the musty scent of evergreens and mint from Draco, a pleasant sleep came over me, and I slept soundly, for the first time in a week.