Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters therein. They belong to Ms. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Please don't sue, I am poor!
My Melancholy Angel
Chapter One
Hermione Granger had fallen in love with the most unlikely of individuals. She had fallen for her mortal enemy, Draco Malfoy. It had come as a shock to everyone. She and the young Malfoy had been known to loathe each other. However, when had been asked to tutor him in Arithmancy, sparks flew, passion ignited and love was born. But that is a story for another time. This story is about the tragedy that drove them apart and the trials that brought them back together.
Hermione Granger-Malfoy lay alone in the king sized bed she had once shared with her husband. He had not slept in their bed for three months now. Not since…Well, she preferred not think about that. Instead, she lay awake in the wee hours of the morning, wondering what woman Draco was making love to at that very moment. Was she beautiful? Did she have full breasts and hips that made up the perfect hourglass figure? More importantly, though, could she give him something that his wife could not?
She had known of Draco's affairs from the very beginning of the end of the love that had been between them. It was not as if he had made any attempt to hide it. He usually came home in the hours before dawn to change his clothes and leave again. He always smelled of alcohol and expensive perfume—perfume he had probably bought for his mistress. It was further torment to Hermione's already battered heart and she had sunk deeper into depression.
Ginny, Harry and Ron had worried about her, but that was before she stopped communicating with her best friends. She didn't tell them about what had happened. She hadn't wanted them to know. So, she shut herself away in the master bedroom and refused to see anyone. She never left and no one came in. Eventually, she had begun to refuse food, and after a week of this, Narcissa Malfoy forced entry into the room and all but shoved the food down her throat.
Strangely, Narcissa had always been kind to Hermione. The younger woman had been surprised to learn that Lucius Malfoy's wife did not hold his beliefs of pure blood superiority. Once Lucius was gone, Narcissa had been able to be the person she had wanted to be. And here she was, doing her best to comfort her heart broken daughter-in-law. It was only a few years ago that Hermione would have laughed if such a thing was suggested.
Narcissa insisted that Draco's "restless phase" would eventually end. It was natural for them to both be in shock after such a devastating tragedy. Narcissa insisted that Hermione must be strong for her husband, though secretly she wanted to throttle him within an inch of his miserable life.
But what about me?! Hermione wanted to rage. Who is going to be strong for me?!
Narcissa supervised her meals for a week and when she was satisfied that Hermione was eating enough, the older woman allowed her charge to take meals in her room once again. Instead of refusing the food, Hermione just began to leave it on the balcony for birds and other animals to ear. She was in a place of utter despair. She wanted the hurting to stop. Every night that Draco stayed away killed another piece of her soul. Soon there would be nothing left. She was wasting away spiritually, why not physically as well?
One day, Narcissa came to spend the afternoon with Hermione and was alarmed at the drastic change in her daughter-in-law's condition. The girl was too thin, too fragile looking. There were dark circles under her eyes. Those same eyes had lost their brilliance. There were lines on her face that should not have been there. The girl was killing herself slowly. Narcissa had been certain she had broken through to her. That left only one thing to do and that was to call in the Potter boy and the two Weasleys that Hermione was so fond of.
Narcissa had excused herself and wrote three urgent missives and addressed them to Harry Potter and Ginny Weasely and one to Ron Weasley. Then, she addressed a howler to her son. How dare he abandon his wife at a time like this!
The By Who Lived lay in post-coital bliss with his head snuggled against Ginny Weasley's breast. The frantic beating of wings snapped him out of his stupor and he recognized the Malfoy owl immediately. When he didn't move quickly enough for the owl's taste, it began to peck him viciously.
"Ow! Dammit, Artemis!" He quickly untied the missive addressed to himself and Ginny and Artemis took flight. "Gin, wake up. There's a message from 'Mione." He opened the parchment and began to read. It wasn't Hermione's writing. When he glanced at the signature, he was surprised to see that it was from Naricissa Malfoy. "There's something wrong with Hermione," he muttered. "Narcissa says our presence is needed immediately."
"What is it?" Ginny mumbled sleepily.
"Doesn't say. She just says to come immediately."
"Let's go, then." Ginny got out her wand.
"Ginny, stop!"
"What, Harry? You said it was urgent."
"Well, it is, but—"
"Then what are you dawdling about for?"
"It's just…don't you think you should put on some clothes first?"
"Balls!" With a flick of her wrist and a short incantation, she was clothed in a t-shirt and jeans. She looked down at herself and back to Harry. "Much better!"
Harry shrugged. "If you say so. I quite like you naked."
Ginny pushed his shoulder, "You're the one who says I should be wearing clothing." She considered him a moment, raising an eyebrow. "You should probably consider a change of dress as well."
"What? Rubber duckies aren't appropriate for a visit to Dark Hall?"
Ginny shook her head and waved her wand. In seconds Harry was acceptably dressed. She rolled her eyes, "Let's go, Harry."
Elsewhere, Draco Malfoy was gazing uneasily at the scarlet envelope that had just been dropped by Artemis before the owl had fled. The address was penned in his mother's handwriting. What in the world could she-- He was about to find out, because the envelope began to smoke and tremble. In moments, it flew into the air and began to screech at his with his mother's voice.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" It screeched. "I do not know where in the bloody hell you are or who you are with, but you will come to Dark Hall immediately! I suggest you make it quick. I will find you, Draco, and trust me when I say that you. do. not. want. that. If you thought your father was a force to be reckoned with, you've seen nothing yet. You have one hour. One hour, Draco. If you are not home by then, I will come for you." With that, the Howler burst into flame, ashes settling into his silver-blonde hair.
People in the brothel were gaping at him like goldfish. The crimson haired witch who had been…entertaining him began to giggle, much to his distemper.
"You wife must be—"
"That was my mother," he snapped.
This did not result in the desired effect. He had meant to shut her up, but the girl. Draco rolled his eyes, pushing away from the table. What his sharp tongue had not accomplished, the murderous look in his eyes did. The girl's laughter stopped abruptly and she looked down at her hands.
"Thanks for the shag," He zipped his pants and tossed a couple of gold pieces onto the dark wood table top.
Harry and Ginny apparated to Dark Hall together and Ron apparated in shortly after, looking frantic. Narcissa met them in the entranceway.
"Welcome. I wish it could be under better circumstances. I will take you to her. Please follow me." With that said, she led them up the grand staircase and down a long hallway. She stopped at the end of the hallway, opened the door and ushered them into the room.
The three younger adults looked at one another as they shuffled into what appeared to be the master bedroom. What was going on? Why wasn't she telling them anything? How bad was it?
Narcissa stopped at a set of heavy, oaken doors. She pushed the left door and it swung open easily. With one elegant hand, she gestured for them to enter the room ahead of her. Again, the three friends shared a look between them.
Hermione's mother-in-law glided to the bedside and drew the curtain back. "Hermione, darling, you have visitors."
There was no response from the figure huddled in the blankets in the center of the bed and the elder Malfoy woman turned back to the visiting trio. She had been so composed when they had arrived, but now they could see the depth of her concern for their friend. "I hope you can restore her to some semblance of the Hermione we knew." She took one final look at the lump that was her daughter-in-law and excused herself from the room.
The two Weasleys and Harry stood for a moment, looking very uncomfortable. Hermione still had not acknowledged their presence and they were not sure how to proceed. Finally Harry broke away from the group and approached the bed. "'Mione?" He laid a hand on what he hoped was her covered shoulder. "'Mione, its Harry." There was no answer. "Ginny and Ron are here, too," he said, hopefully. There was still no response from the lump that was Hermione. "Narcissa is worried about you. We all are. Narcissa says you won't eat. She thinks you're too thin. Hermione, why didnt you say anything? You can always tell us anything. You should know that." Still no answer. "Damnit, Hermione, fucking talk to me!" He bellowed.
"Don't yell..." came her pitiful and muffled response. "My head hurts..."
Harry opened his mouth and promptly shut it as his girlfriend took over.
"Hermione Elizabeth Granger...er...Malfoy!Come out here this moment before I throtlle you within an inch of your life. I demand to know what is going on!"
"Could you all just go away and we can talk about this later?"
"No!" was the unanimous reply.
"I asked you not to yell..."she moaned.
Ginny rolled her eyes, "Hermione, this is ridiculous! Now just tell us what's happened. Malfoy's mum wouldn't tell us anything."
"I would really rather not discuss it right now."
Ginny had had enough. She grabbed a fistful of comforter and yanked it off the bed. There was a collective gasp from the visiting trio and Ginny rushed the bed to wrap her arms around Hermione.
"'Mione...you..." was all Ron could say. His heart had made its way into his throat and was threatening to choke him.
The bony, dull eyed creature lying so listlessly on the bed was barely recognizable as the the Hermione Granger they had known for 9 years. Her hair was lank and brittle, her pallor sickly and grayish, cheeks hollowed, eyes sunken.
As Ron stared, dumbfounded, Ginny was sobbing against Hermione's shoulder. Harry had crawled onto the bed to hold his best friend from behind. He met Ginny's gaze over Hermione's head. This was far worse than any of them had expected.
"'Mione, tell us what happened," Harry murmured into her hair.
Hermione took a deep breath as a fresh wave of tears threatened to choke her. "I lost the baby," she whispered brokenly.
Harry pulled her head down onto his shoulder and Ginny scooted closer so that her limbs entwined with Harry's around their devastated friend. Ron swore a blue streak. The expecting couple were not the only ones looking forward to spoiling a new baby.
"How did it happen, Hermione?" Harry asked softly.
She shook her head, "I don't know! I woke up one morning and I was bleeding. There was so much blood. Too much. Poppy said there was nothing to be done. The baby was gone. She said this sometimes happens to couples who are trying for their first child, but she was worried at the amount of blood I lost. She said women who miscarry normally do not lose as much blood I had."
Ginny stroked her best friend's hair, smoothing it back from her face. "How did Malfoy take it," she asked softly.
The former head girl of Griffindor looked at her hands that were linked with Ginny's in her lap. "He—he didn't take it well. He hasn't slept in our bed for weeks. He...doesn't look at me, doesn't touch me, and he's sleeping around."
Ginny gasped, Harry's tightened his hold on Hermione and Ron saw red.
"How do you know?" Ginny asked.
Hermione raised her head to look into the younger woman's eyes. "A woman knows when her husband is being unfaithful." She sighed heavily. "I can smell them on him." She laughed bitterly, "He won't even take meals with me." She shrugged, "Can't say that I blame him honestly. I mean, who wants a wife cannot carry a child to term?"
Draco apparated into the entrance hall of the Malfoy estate. His mother must have been listening for him, because he had no time to remove his overcoat before she was on him.
"There you are, you wretched brat!" she seethed.
"Mother, what has--?"
"Where have you been?" she demanded, her cool blue gaze stabbing through him.
"I hardly think it concerns you where--"
"Draco Lucius Malfoy, do not presume to tell me what does and does not concern me! I brought you into this world, and I have the power to take you out of it," she snapped.
"Mother, what's wrong?"
"Get upstairs. Now. Go look your wife in the eyes and tell her where you've been." She shoved him toward the stairs. Draco looked back at her, opening his mouth to respond, but she was having none of it. "Go!"
And he did. He had never seen his mother like this. Narcissa Malfoy was the Ice Queen. She never had violent outbursts. She was always calm and collected. This new version of his mother scared him. Something had to be terribly wrong for her to act like this.
He made his way down the hall to the master bedroom. The door was open a bit, and he heard soft sobs and hiccups. he pushed the open and saw red. Harry Potter was sitting on his bed, embracing his wife.
"Potter, get your hands of my--" Draco stormed across the room to the bed, jerking the Boy Who Lived away from Hermione. What he saw when he reached the bed stole his words. His wife, his beautiful, lively wife was completely unrecognizable to him. Her arms were too this, just skin stretched over bone. Her collar bone was too pronounced. The once warm, chocolate eyes lacked the sparkle they had once proudly displayed. Her hair, once lustrous and full of body, was now lank and brittle.
His steps faltered, "Oh, gods!"
Suddenly, he was wrenched around by strong hands. He found himself looking into the enraged eyes of Ron Weasley.
"You get away from her," the red head growled, roughly shoving him into the wall. "You don't deserve to be in the same room as her."
Normally, Draco would have just throttled Weasley for his insolence, but his concern for Hermione had taken over. "Hermione!" He struggled against Ron's grip. "Let me go, Weasel," he growled.
Ron punched him savagely, "You piece of shite ferret!" he bellowed, punching him again. "You son of a bitch!" Punch. "Worthless!" Thwack. "Worm!" Thump.
"That is quite enough, Ronald!" Hermione struggled up and out of the bed, standing on trembling, too thin legs.
Ron slammed him once more into the wall before allowing him to slump to the floor.
Hermione approached her husband with slow, careful steps. He looked up at her, his face the very picture of misery.
"'Mione--" Slap! his head snapped to he side with the force of her blow. He turned an incredulous gaze to his wife.
"Get out of here!" She was breathing heavily, as though the effort of striking him had been too much fore her. "I don't want to see you again," she said softly.
"You three can go," she murmured still gazing hard at Draco. "I'm fine, now. I'll be in touch."
"You sure, 'Mione?" Ron asked. "If the ferret tries anything--"
"He won't, Ron. I will be fine. Thank you."
She watched her friends apparate, then sank to her knees, trembling. Draco moved to embrace her, but she shied away from his touch. "Don't."
He brushed a gentle fingertips against her bicep and she lost it. "Don't fucking touch me!" she screeched, wrenching away from him. Her eyes were wild, crazed. Draco could only stare in disbelief at what she had become.
"Hermione--"
She shook her head. "No."
"Hermione--"
"Save it for someone who cares, Draco, because I don't anymore."
Her words were like a knife twisting in his heart. "So, this is how it's going to be now?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head. "No." She drew in a shuddering breath. "This is not how it's going to be. Things will be quite different. In fact, it will be like I was never here at all."
Draco's blood ran cold. "What do you mean, Hermione?"
"I mean that I refuse to live to keep living this farce. I'm giving you the freedom you want. That way you can fuck any slut you want without having to worry about your conscience getting in the way."
He grabbed her shoulders, ignoring her pitiful attempts at batting his hands away. "What are you talking about."
She leaned into him, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, they were full of loathing. "You stink of your whores," she hissed. "It's making me ill. But don't worry, Draco. I'll have the divorce papers drawn up tomorrow. Then, you won't have to worry about your defective wife. You won't ever have to come skulking home in the middle of the night. You can stay out as late as you want. When I'm gone, you could even bring them back here."
Draco was struggling to wrap his mind around what she was saying. It was making no sense to him. "Divorce?!"
"Did you expect me to sit around this huge place by myself, sleep in that cold, empty bed alone, play the good little submissive wife while you are out fucking other women?"
Draco stared at her, appalled by her language.
"Did you think I wouldn't guess it? I was not Head Girl at Hogwarts because of my looks, Draco. If you didn't want me to know, you should have tried to hide your indiscretions a bit better."
"I'm not signing any divorce papers."
"Don't worry, Malfoy, you can keep your money. I don't want any of it. We can have the marriage annulled, if you'd rather."
"I don't want any kind of separation!" he yelled. "And could you please call me by my given name?"
"No. And you will give me a divorce."
"No, I will not."
"What do you want from me?!" she cried. "You have so easily set aside the vows we took. Why don't I get the same freedom?"
"I love you."
"Your love didn't keep you from deserting me."
"Stop being dramatic, Hermione."
She slapped him again and then again and again. "I was by myself for three months in a lonely bed. I lost our child—a part of me. Where were you? Where were you when I needed comfort?" She kept hitting him harder and harder until she collapsed from over-exertion. "I hate you, "she whispered. She began to sob terrible, heart-wrenching sobs. He reached for her once more and she jerked away "No! Don't touch me! Bastard!" She struck him again, "Whoremonger!"
He grasped her wrists firmly in his hands. "Hermione, you're hurting yourself."
"I don't care!" she screamed. "You hurt me, too! Every night you don't come home. Every time you avoid my gaze. Every time you come home smelling like cheap perfume, you hurt me. So, don't tell me about hurting myself. There's nothing I can do to hurt myself more than you already have."
The silence after her tirade was louder than words. Finally, Draco spoke, "Do you really want a divorce? Do you really want to leave me?"
"You left me a long time ago, Draco"
"Answer the question, Hermione. Do you want truly want a divorce?"
"I can't live like this anymore. Look at me! I'm little better than a skeleton. I can't eat. I don't sleep. This isn't an existence, Draco."
"Just answer my question, Hermione." His voice sounded tired.
"No. I want you back. I want you to touch me. I want to be held." she broked down, burying her face in her hands.
"Baby..." Draco took her into his arms. "I'm so sorry."
When her tears had subsided, she pushed away from him, "I'm sorry, too, Draco." She wiped at her eyes. "Now, could you please go? I need to be alone for a while."
"If that's what you want," he murmured, getting to his feet.
"Yes, that's what I want," she whispered.
He didn't try to talk her out of it. He just walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was gone and the door was shut, Hermione let herself break down again. She cried tears she didn't know she had.
On the other side of the door, Draco stood, listening to his wife cry. He felt helpless. He had been living in his own world, not comprehending that his actions might be hurting her as well. He had just been trying to kill the terrible ache left with the loss of their child. How had things become so out of control? How had he let it go this far?