A/n: Thanks to my beta lozipozivanillabean! This story alternates between past and present, so be prepared. The past is a fractured timeline, and the present revolves around them lying in bed.
Warnings: Brief limes. No major details just hinting and sex and minor scenes.
Originally written for the Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society in order to raise money for cancer research. If you donated and have already read this story, thank you for contributing to a great cause!
Undercover Prince Charming
It started out as nothing more than an estranged agreement really, settled because of blackmail and desperation. They entered into the deal as nothing more than enemies, and came out at a one-eighty, their lives having flipped over completely from the point they started at three months before. It was full of hardships and anguish, but looking back on the deal Hermione thought it had all been worth it. She just never expected things to work out as they did.
Originally, she was going to marry Ron, but things took a turn for the worse when her parents decided that she was simply too young and inexperienced to marry someone at the mere age of twenty. Lying back in bed, she recalled the conversation as though it were yesterday.
"I forbid it," her father began, shaking his head from his position on the couch. "You've only ever been with one man Hermione; you don't know what love is."
"It doesn't matter how many people I've been with," she replied evenly, standing before her parents. "All that matters is what I feel inside. And inside I know that I love Ron daddy, I do. We've been together for-"
"Since sixth year," he mother interrupted, surveying her daughter. "On and off again ever since. You've only gone steady with that boy for a year. If you must marry him, at least give it time. You have your whole life ahead of you to get married."
The brunette's eyebrows knitted together. "You got married young. You were only twenty-one."
"But our relationship was steady," her father reminded. "We dated for six years before I asked her, from the time we were fourteen. We'd both dated a few people beforehand as well, nothing too serious, but enough so that we knew how we really felt about each other. There was none of this on and off nonsense. We knew we both wanted the same thing, and there was no uncertainty between us. You though darling, there seems to be doubt lingering between the two of you. I don't want you jumping in headfirst into something you aren't one- hundred percent about."
"I am one-hundred percent about Ron! You just don't want to see it!"
The man beside Hermione in bed rolled over and kissed her softly, a position they'd found themselves in on more than one occasion recently. It was surreal to think that now, after all of this time, they had ended up together.
After her parents blatant disregard for her engagement to Ron, Hermione encountered an old face in London. Or rather, she crashed into a familiar face whilst worrying over the issue with her parents.
"Watch where you're going Granger!"
"Don't stand in the middle of the bloody street Malfoy!"
It was the first time they'd crossed paths since eighth year at Hogwarts, when seventh years were forced to return and actually earn their full education. He was sublime back then, hesitant and weary after the war and his non-existent standpoint within society. For the first time at school, he faded into the background, a shadow of his former self.
Now he was powerful, deeply immersed in the stock market and making millions off of it. He had all his power again, a higher standpoint than before in society, and the reputation of a pimp. He was everything she despised in a man; egotistic, rich, prejudiced and above all else a man-whore, seducing whomever he wanted into bed. The git was famous for it; she thought it was a sickening pastime.
And now their paths crossed again. "I was making my way properly down my side of the street Granger. You're the one staggering to and fro, as though you own the fucking sidewalk. Now get out of my way; I have better places to be."
"With another one of your conquests?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow as he growled. The newspapers supposedly had him quoting the word conquests during one of their invasive street interviews, but she wasn't entirely sure she ever bought that. He was bigoted, but not a fool.
"Would you shut your mouth? Just because the press writes something doesn't make it true- they rarely actually report anything accurately, so don't buy into everything you read." He shouldered past her, making her stagger as he went. "No go on your merry little way. I'd rather not linger here with you any longer."
She was frightfully annoyed that the blonde actually thought he could boss her around, but lost her interest in screaming at him when she noticed that he had dropped something. Letting the man leave without another word, she waited until he went round a corner before she stooped and picked up the fallen envelope. It wasn't sealed, and curiously she backed herself against the wall, interested in the contents.
She nearly choked on the butterscotch in her mouth. Within the envelope she found naked pictures of the blonde, posed in some, unaware in others, but all undeniably nude. A few depicted a girl with jet black hair, but her face was always missing from the picture. She supposed that was done purposefully.
Feeling undeniably naughty for looking at those, she pressed the contents to her chest, ensuring that passer-by's didn't see what she was holding. Why would he carry such an item with him in his cloak whilst wandering through wizarding London? Seemed a bit dangerous to her. Stuffing the photographs back into the envelope, she shoved it into the deepest pocket she had and continued on her way, her mind swimming. Whatever would she do?
He kissed up her neck, distracting the memories. She recalled owling him a few days later, a stroke of genius hitting her. Her parents still disagreed with the idea of her marriage to Ron, and what better way than to showcase all of his good assets than by putting him on the stand alongside an alleged playboy? Her new "boyfriend" would be a horror story comparison to Ron, and then her parents could have no complaint about the ginger, so long as she didn't marry Malfoy. The idea at the time seemed flawless.
The execution of getting the plan in motion was a bit harder. He didn't respond for nearly a week to her letter, and when he did the bloke was standoffish, offended that she had anything of his. The fact that they might be his nude pictures only enhanced his irritation. A meeting was set, and Hermione finally had to face the facts that she needed to tell Ron about her plan.
He was offended, to say the least. Letting his fiancé get with the enemy- even if it all was pretend- didn't sit well in Ron's stomach, and they actually got into a fight over the matter. Though Hermione explained her plan thoroughly, he wasn't having it. A three month break wasn't something he signed up for, and he wasn't willing to partake in it either.
They ended up not speaking about the matter again until after she had spoken to Malfoy, who only begrudgingly agreed to her atrocious plan because he didn't want her leaking any tidbits to the press about the existence of the photos- imagine the scandal! After a lot of arguing, they came to a rough agreement.
She would date him for three months in the eyes of the media and her parents, falsely calling off her engagement to Ron, even though they would still see each other on the side and continue to plan their upcoming wedding. Malfoy would be his notorious self, acting the part of the perfect pimp and playboy, and Hermione would bring this monstrosity home for her parents to meet. Regrettably, it might just give them a stroke, but she could think of no better way to convince them that Ron was the one. They had no other objections towards him other than the fact that he was the only guy she'd ever seriously dated. Once they got an eyeful of Malfoy, they were likely to have second thoughts about her fiancé. After a lot of banter with Ron, the ploy was set. She would be in a three month faux relationship with Malfoy, while secretly planning her and Ron's wedding. And when those three months ended they would break off the fake relationship, she would return his nude photographs, and they would part ways. It was deliciously simple.
Now if only it could've been pulled off that way.
Beside her, the blonde moved up and found her lips, trapping them within his own. They shared a searing kiss, before he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you."
"I love you too."
And now let's find out how they started off the whole charade.
"I've been out with you three times," he grumbled, standing in the woman's apartment as she gathered things to take to her parents. "There are enough news articles on us to start a wildfire if we were to burn them- hell, they could be the wildfire all on their own. Does this really need to go on for three fucking months?"
"Of course!" she snapped, shaking her head as though it were obvious. "I send those hints off to the press if you don't keep your side of the deal, remember? It's for three months Malfoy, like it or not. You agreed to this deal."
"You blackmailed me!"
"And I'll keep doing it if it means keeping you in this deal. I know it's a nasty way to handle things, but without some sort of leverage we both know you wouldn't have even listened to me. Now stop complaining and be your usual snarky self. Don't be a bastard though- I won't have you insulting my parents."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he grumbled. "Does this mean I have to kiss you again?"
"If you'll kiss me in front of the press you're perfectly capable of doing it in front of my parents. But please, don't be vulgar. I don't want you giving them a heart attack."
"I'm pretty sure you're going to at this point."
"Oh shut up! As long as you tone yourself down a bit, it'll all be fine."
"Yeah Granger, keep telling yourself that."
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "It's Hermione, remember? Granger isn't going to cut it in front of my parents, even if you mumble it alongside your curse words in front of the media. They're going to see through the lie if you can't even use my first name."
"Oh, don't worry sweetheart," he said, sugar-coating the sentence, "I won't be forgetting how to say you're name. I'll be a good little boy tonight."
Hermione rolled her eyes, turning away. "You think this is all a joke, don't you?"
"Well in a way, it is Granger. We're playing the whole of Britain just so we can break up and you can jump back into lover boy's arms." He shuddered at the image.
"Trust me Draco," she said, purposefully putting emphasis on his first name, "I'm holding out for that day. I can't wait until it's just me and him in the newspapers again." Turning back, she collected what she needed. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be," he grumbled, pulling on a button-up shirt to hide the tank top beneath. She studied him a moment, cocking an eyebrow.
"I love you," she said, catching him off guard. There was a pause between them, during which time he searched her dark orbs, looking for a flicker of a lie within them. He saw it there.
"I love you too," he said, throwing as much emotion as he could into his voice. It actually ended up sounding pretty good. "I can pull this off you know, so would you stop doubting me?"
She shrugged. "Glad to see you can at least pass the test. And yes, let's go."
What started out as forced words eventually became reality. It took it's time forming, but over the first two months Hermione could feel her emotions towards the man evolving. Yes, she did have a sore spot for him, yes, he did love being a playboy, and yes, her parents completely hated him, but she couldn't help herself. Underneath the annoying amount of snark there was a real person hiding, who put up walls around his emotions. Over the course of two months, she was able to begin pulling back the layers he hid behind.
It started after the first meeting with her parents, where he nearly gave them both a stroke just by being there. It was exactly what she wanted, but when they left she felt like a traitor. When they arrived at her apartment for show, she slumped against the sofa, feeling like a horrid daughter. She really was deceiving her parents just to get with Ron. It was shameful to say the least.
Yet he provided words of comfort, probably words that he didn't mean to let slip out, but that he said nonetheless. It was the first time she ever thought of him as anything other than a cold-hearted playboy.
"You're doing it to yourself Granger, you know that right? You're the one that's causing your own heartache because you're trying to live two lives and keep up a charade. Life doesn't work that way. The only way you're going to balance your emotions is if you chose to live just one life, and not present two."
Back then she knew immediately that he was implying they should break off the deal, and it didn't make things any easier until later- later when she honestly put his words into perspective. She saw his insight as intuitive, but nothing more. It was a feeble attempt to get out of their deal, and that was all.
Later, those words would be her legacy. She had to pick a standpoint, a boyfriend or a fiancé, and she was the only one who could decide her own destiny. Unfortunately, it was a decision she didn't want to make.
At least Malfoy was very careful about what he did during the time that they were together. Much to her surprise there were no scandalous articles about him sleeping with other women, appearing at strip clubs, bars, or doing the things he normally would. Basically, he shut down his entire life to ensure that the lie was buyable, and hopefully get his photos back. She wondered why they were so important to him.
It was during month two that things really began to change. She really began to notice a difference in him.
"I'm not going to Pansy's party tonight," he told her, sitting in her living room. It was strange, but he came over a lot when Ron was gone. Despite the tension it created between the two fiancé's, she never told him to stop. Maybe it was because she enjoyed the company.
"I thought you were expected to be there," she said, closing the book she'd been reading. They honestly did look like a couple just then, sitting in the living room casually talking about their plans. "Don't you always attend her parties?"
"Granger," he said, sitting forward as he spoke, "You don't want me going, trust me. If I go to a party, especially without you, I'm liable to get drunk, really drunk, and that's when I usually end up fucking people. It'll end badly if I do that."
Her eyebrows shot up, surprise ripping through her at the idea that he might actually be thinking of what his actions might do to their plan. "You really care that much?"
"I care about those pictures," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "I've come this far, and I don't plan on fucking up now."
"That's commendable of you," she said, fidgeting in her seat. "It's nice to know that you don't plan to fuck things up anymore."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You're the one with the blackmail Granger; I don't have a lot of options. The sooner I can get those photographs out of your hands, the better."
Nodding, silence fell over them, and after several moments Hermione resumed reading her book, breaking the awkward staring contest. She didn't read more than two sentences before he spoke again.
"Why is your fiancé never round? He lives here too, right?"
"Oh, Ron? He's otherwise occupied usually, what with work and his family."
The blonde didn't look convinced. "He's an Auror; their hours aren't that unforgiving. And from what I know the only thing happening to the Weasley clan is that little Weaselette is pregnant."
"He wants to spend time with his sister," she argued defensively.
"All the time? Granger, I'm here sometimes until eleven or midnight and he doesn't even appear. When I come over early in the morning to meet your parents for breakfast at six or seven, his side of the bed isn't even touched. Does he come home at night anymore at all?"
She slammed her book shut, eyeing him darkly. "That's none of your business Malfoy! What happens between my fiancé and I is private!"
"I was only questioning what I see," he said, holding up his hands. "It's just an observation."
Hermione looked away, fixating on a nearby lap. "You can go now," she said quietly, and he could hear the hurt in her voice. "We have nothing left to discuss. I'll see you Monday at two to go visit my parents." Monday was three days away.
At first he said nothing, and simply observed her body language. She was tense all over, gripping the arms of the chair now that her book was discarded. The woman looked very uncomfortable, and he knew he was poking needles at a sensitive topic. Perhaps it would be best if he backed off.
He stood and bid her goodbye, receiving no response. As he felt the apartment, he felt a weight sitting on his chest, as though he actually felt bad about pushing things. But he couldn't help it; he was naturally curious, and Weasley was rarely around.
It was the first real battle they ever had together, the first one that didn't involve those dirty photographs.
Hermione rolled over, adjusting their position so she was leaning over him, kissing him now. Draco reached up, lightly pulling on her hair, and she groaned.
"Where would I be without you?" he asked as she pulled back.
"Lost," she muttered in return, resting her head on his chest. "Following the same old cycle you were stuck in before I found you."
"And you would be married to Weasley," he said, closing his eyes as he spoke, "Stuck in a loveless marriage."
"Yes, there's that. But now I'm married to you."
"And aren't you happy?"
Hermione couldn't disagree with that. Discovering Draco's secrets, learning who he was, why he was so insistent on getting those photos back. Those were the secrets about her blonde husband that she uncovered during those first three months, when she was more often than not home alone because Ron was nowhere to be found. When kisses stopped having to be a public thing, when he would kiss her whenever he wanted; it was when she started to realise that things were moving beyond a deal between acquaintances, well former enemies.
"I don't know what he does anymore," she whispered, leaning against him on the sofa, a sofa she once sat with Ron in. "He's so different these days."
The blonde shrugged, unwilling to offer up any advice. Lately, he didn't feel apt to tell her how to save her relationship with Weasley. Rather, he was looking for opportunities to destroy it, but she didn't need to know that yet.
She didn't need to know that she'd awoken something inside of him, that the animal within was coming out and couldn't wait to claim her. But the attraction was more than just the need to fuck her, but something deeper all together. Realistically, he was worried he was falling for this engaged woman.
But he wasn't going to fight for her, not until he was certain he understood the budding feelings within. In the past weeks he'd been gentler with her, kissing her when they were alone, actually being considerate when they visited her parents, and holding her lovingly against him whenever they went places. It was quite obviously different than how things started out, and he couldn't entirely explain what was going on yet, for he just didn't know.
As a method of comfort, he kissed the woman beside him, offering up his lips as a form of help. She took it eagerly, having enjoyed kissing him recently- more than he would've originally imagined. But he wasn't going to argue, not when he enjoyed it so much as well. It was almost scary how much he enjoyed kissing her, holding her, having her nearby. He was beginning to get attached, and attachments were dangerous. She was still technically with someone else- he was kissing Weasley's fiancé. Usually, he just ignored that fact.
When he tried to pull back she held on, kissing him longer than ever before. Usually they only lasted a few moments before she pulled away, but this time was different. She wanted more, and he was all too willing to comply. Wrapping his arms around her body, he pulled her closer, practically on his lap. It was the closest they'd ever been.
He couldn't get enough of her. Slipping his hands between their bodies, he took it a step further, quite possibly getting his hand broken if she didn't approve. But he managed to grab ahold of her breast without her pulling back, and the way she reacted to his touch was delicious. She moaned into his mouth, and it only propelled him to continue kneading the soft flesh beneath his hand.
Merlin, he never noticed how well endorsed she was.
They continued on, with Draco alternating from one breast to the other, occasionally squeezing hard enough that she would moan in pleasure. It was beginning to send his blood south and he pulled away, not wanting to go that far with her yet. He wasn't even quite sure what he was feeling, much less how he felt about fucking her.
And Draco was never uncertain about when he wanted to fuck a woman. He didn't think about it, he just did it. The fact that he was holding back and actually considering things made his nerves stand on end. Why was he thinking things over!?
Hermione still sat on his lap, her forehead against his, shaking slightly. She swallowed twice before speaking. "Ron can't find out."
That was the first time she realised she had affections for Draco, when she began getting scared of what she had started. Setting up an agreement with Malfoy had been entirely her idea, an idea Ron didn't agree with. And if she started falling for Draco, she would be the only one to blame. It was something Ron might not forgive her for.
They didn't stay apart long after that first kiss. She continued to see Draco since they were still staging an act, still putting on a show for the media. She saw even less of Ron as they days wore on. It was the very first day of the third month that he finally came to find her, seeking her out in the early morning.
"We need to talk," he said, flooing into their apartment at six in the morning. Hermione was up making coffee, and was incredibly surprised to see her fiancé at all. She actually expected it to be Draco over Ron these days.
"About what?" Considering how little they spoke, she couldn't begin to imagine what he wanted. He only ever stopped in to see how her parents were adapting to Malfoy anymore, and even those visits were few and far between. They hadn't discussed the upcoming wedding in weeks. They barely spoke.
He pursed his lips. "About us, about this entire situation."
Hermione set her mug aside, crossing her arms over her chest, the silk robe cold against her skin. "Okay, shoot."
Instead of replying immediately he looked her over, from her bare legs to the mid-thigh silk bathrobe that clung to her curves. It was apparent that she had clothing underneath, but seeing as it was summer, it didn't look like very much. When he finally looked back up at her face, his eyes were filled with regret.
"You're dressed for him," he said sadly, watching her face. There was no anger in his tone, no disapproval, only the drenched sound of remorse. Her cheeks colored and she straightened.
"What?! Of course not! Why would you-"
"You didn't even know that I was coming over," he said, giving her a crooked smile. "I don't blame you for looking nice Hermione. The few times I've visited recently, well, you seem happy. Happier… than I've ever seen."
She leaned back against the counter, gripping it from behind now. "Ron, what are you getting at?"
He looked down, shaking his head softly. "Hermione, I-"
Ron shut up as the floo roared to life, startling the pair as another figure arrived. Draco stepped out of the floo with a package in hand, then stopped mid-step as he realised who was there. Quickly, the item was pulled behind his back and vanished, secretly taking up refuge in his pocket.
"Morning Weasley," he said, keeping his tone lukewarm. "Fancy seeing you here at your own house."
"Malfoy," Ron replied, keeping his greeting short. Glancing at Hermione, he gave the man a dark glare. "Could you give us a moment?"
Draco arched an eyebrow, deciding to make this uncomfortable on the Weasel as possible. After all, this was his first time seeing the ginger in weeks, and he was falling for the man's fiancé, who Weasley kindly liked to ignore. So why not have some fun and pick an uncomfortable spot?
"Sure. I'll just be in the bedroom Hermione." He smirked as Weasley's eyebrows shot up and sauntered off towards the furthest door, forcing himself not to look back. Seeing the man's expression might cause him to say something inappropriate, and then an argument would ensue. He'd much rather just get the prick out as soon as possible so he could spend some personal time with Hermione.
When the door at the end of the hallway clicked closed, Ron turned back to face his fiancé. "I think we should sit down."
Concerned, she followed him to the couch, sitting adjacent to the ginger that she only rarely saw. "Hermione, do you love me?"
"What? That's a silly question! Of course I do."
He tilted his head. "But is it the same Hermione? Is it the same as it was a couple months ago? Doesn't it feel almost… detached now?"
"Maybe it wouldn't if you ever came around," she said bitterly, and his eyebrows drew together.
"Have you ever actually considered why I don't come around our apartment anymore, hmm?"
She blinked several times, actually surprised by his question. "Actually… no." She felt bad at how detached her tone was, as though she didn't even care. But Ron just nodded, seemingly unaffected.
"I can't just wander around and watch my fiancé hugging and kissing another guy Hermione!" He took a deep breath before continuing. "Look, I'm a bloke. We lack self-control to begin with, and for that, I'm sorry, but it was too much to ask. I've distanced myself because I thought it would take away the pain of the entire situation, but it didn't. I still knew in the back of my mind what Britain doesn't; you're still mine, or at least, I thought you were." He shook his head. "I suppose, in reality, you haven't been mine for a while now."
"Ron what are you talking about?" she asked, beginning to feel panicky. She wasn't freaking out like she thought she was going to as he spoke, but nonetheless she got uncomfortable, and her emotions began to shine through. "Stop beating around the bush! You've avoided even really speaking to me for weeks! Now tell me the truth; what did you really come to discuss?"
He looked away, focusing on the clock on the wall. "I've… I've been seeing someone else."
She froze, feeling her heart stop as he spoke. She thought she was going to start panicking, bitching, something, but her body remained eerily calm, as did her tone. "For how long Ron?"
The ginger took his time responding, unsettled by how calm she was. "About a month. Look Hermione-"
"Who is it?" she asked, cutting through his sentence. Her voice was beginning to quiver. "Who are you seeing?"
"Lavender," he replied, this time not hesitating. "Look, I know she isn't your favorite person, but she was there to talk to when Harry was too busy with Ginny. I told her about the situation, I revealed everything, and she let me talk about my problems, my pain." He laughed, though it came out dry and scratchy. "I told her about how I missed you in the beginning, and how I hated this whole idea. But the more articles I saw, the more reports that were printed on you two, the less I felt guilty about what I was doing. I was starting to get angry with you."
"From what you're telling me, it sounds like you've been angry all along," she replied softly.
There was a pause before he spoke. "Maybe I was, I don't know. I never liked this situation, that's for sure. I mean, who likes watching their fiancé strut around with another person."
"No one," she replied, her voice shaking slightly. "Is this why you're cheating on me?"
He pursed his lips, looking down at the table. "Remember how I said it looked like you dressed for him?"
The brunette hesitated with her answer. "Yes."
"Would you have? I can tell you haven't; you're not defensive enough to have slept with him. But did you ever want to?"
She shifted uncomfortably. "Ron, I don't want to discuss that. It's… too weird."
"Yes," he muttered, "I suppose it is." Again, silence fell over them.
"Do you feel like our relationship is strained?" he asked at length.
"Of course! We barely speak or see each other; of course it's going to be strained."
"Do you feel the need to mend it?"
He had her there and she fell silent, looking at her longtime fiancé. Was he really asking that question?! The answer seemed obvious, yet she had to sit back and think.
This was the man she fell in love with, her first and only love, and he sat there telling her that he cheated on her. She was upset, but she wasn't angry. She almost felt numb to the news; unaffected. Here was the man she did all of this for, questioning if it was worthwhile. The man she wanted to convince her parents to be a Saint. The man she was still engaged to. The man that she only rarely thought about and sometimes forgot about when she was with Draco. The man asking a very real, very difficult question.
After all the time they'd spent apart, after learning about what and who he'd done behind her back, did she want to rekindle their romance? Did she want to rebuild a broken bridge, set her trust back in a man that cheated on her?
Or was it easier to back out now and follow her heart down a different road? Fingering the ring on her finger, she bit her lip. She could go back down that path with Ron again, try and fix their relationship, but there was no honest appeal there. Maybe her parents were right all along, and he really wasn't the guy for her.
But Draco was uncharted territory. She didn't know him that well physically, but would love to learn more. He was unpredictable, unprecedented, and currently the person the majority of the country thought she was with. And he had dropped all his old habits as of late. Whether it was for her though or the photographs though, she wasn't sure.
However, she was beginning to see herself more with Draco than Ron. Ron was seeing someone behind her back. And regrettably- though less than she originally thought- she felt a bit guilty about the entire ordeal. But looking at her fiancé now, she didn't feel the same passion, love or desire. Everything seemed lukewarm between them right now, and that wasn't what she wanted out of her relationship.
It took effort, but she managed to pull the ring off of her own finger, dropping it numbly onto the couch between them. They both stared at it for a long time.
"You should give it to someone you really love," she whispered, looking ahead of her. Ron picked up the ring, setting it back on the table in front of them.
"I'd rather just buy another," he said, his voice hollow. "That ring is too weighted now. You keep it. Pawn if, burn it, give it away, I don't care. But I don't have any need for it now."
She nodded quickly, slowly feeling her resolve break. She might agree that this was the right thing to do, but that didn't mean it didn't sting. She pursed her lips, refusing to look at him.
"I'm sorry," he said at length, standing. "I'm sorry for leading you on."
"I'm sorry for following," she replied, staring straight ahead. Blinking, she felt the first betrayal of a tear slide down her cheek. "I was blind, and I didn't look at the road ahead of us. I only saw our relationship for what it was presently. I never thought about the future."
"Neither did I," he muttered, stepping away from the table, the couch, her. "I never noticed the cracks in the relationship."
"Nor did I," she agreed, the same dull tone hanging in her voice. The longer he stood there trying to make it all better, trying to talk to her, the more she wanted him to leave. He was after all, breaking down all of her plans, all of her walls.
They were silent for several moments before he spoke again. "I'm going to leave now Hermione. I need to go see Lavender and… maybe, maybe you should go talk to Malfoy."
The sentence was a bit unexpected, but she had almost no response to his words. She just nodded, refusing to look his way. He was crushing her heart under his shoes just then, and she wouldn't look his way so he could see how glossy her eyes were.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "For everything. Maybe, if things had gone differently-"
"Out!" she screamed, jumping up from her seat. She refused to listen to the 'what if' train, just so he could blame her for this. He was the one testing out other women while still with her. "Get out!"
"Hermione-"
"I said out!" The woman threw the paper at him, letting the articles separate on the floor. "Get out of here! Get out!"
Vaguely she heard the door at the end of the hall open and someone step out, but she didn't look down the hallway as Ron held but his hands when her hands found a heavy book, readying herself to throw it at him.
"Okay, okay!" he cried, throwing but his hands. "I'm gone, I'm going Hermione." He snatched up some floo powder, still keeping his hands in the air. "I promise, okay?"
She nodded, though she felt her hands shaking, and vaguely glanced down the hallway and realised Draco now stood there, watching the couple battle. The only emotion she could see on him was that of his eyes, which silently seemed to ask if she needed help. She couldn't respond, not until the floo roared to life, signaling Ron's departure. Then she dropped to her knees, losing her focus on the blonde's grey orbs.
He was at her side in a second, dragging her back onto the couch. "Hey! Hermione, hey, what happened?" He held her shoulders, searching her eyes as another tear slipped out.
"It's over," she whispered quietly, staring at the ring on the table now. He glanced over and caught sight of it. "We… we broke it off. He's been seeing someone else."
The blonde cursed beneath his breath. "I'm sorry," he cooed, brushing her hair away from her wet cheeks as two more fat tears dripped from her eyes and down her face. "I'm so sorry." He wiped her tears away, and she leaned into his hand.
"Don't be," she muttered. "It was his choice. He wanted it. Maybe, maybe I did too." She swallowed, then straightened and tried to wipe her eyes clean. "There was no chemistry between us anymore. We didn't talk, didn't see each other, and Merlin knows how long it's been since we've engaged in anything together. The relationship crumbled underneath us even as we tried to save it." She sniffled. "He found refuge elsewhere."
"He cheated on you," Draco summed up, comfortably rubbing her knee. "That's a pretty awful thing to do to your fiancé."
"I've been doing it too," she whispered, glancing his way. "With you."
"Hey, ours was for show, on a plan he begrudgingly agreed with," he pointed out, refusing to let her feel like the bad guy just then. "Remember?"
She shook her head, her hands moving to grip the sides of her head. "Not always." Looking up at him, he realised how glossy her eyes were. "When we kissed here, there was no one to keep up appearances for. We did on our own free will. In a way, I played him too."
"You didn't fuck anyone," he reminded, trying to make her feel better. "Did he?"
There was a pause. "I don't know." She leaned forward, resting her head against his shoulder. "And I don't care. The relationship… it's been splintering for weeks. I should've known that it was falling out from under me when we stopped communicating. I was too preoccupied."
"With what?"
"With you."
He ran his thumb over her face, dragging her bottom lip down a bit, just because he could. "You're so beautiful."
"No, I'm just lucky," she argued, smiling up at him. "Do we really have to stay in bed all day? It's our honeymoon, we can do anything."
He shrugged, kissing her again. "What do you want to do?"
She smiled, leaning up to kiss him again. "Everything. There are no limits here."
She could say the same thing about their first experience together- the same night that she had broken things off with Ron, using the bed she once shared with him as they engaged in devious acts of love. It was powerful, entrancing, and like nothing either of them ever experienced before. So that's what it's like when you make love to a person, and don't just fuck their brains out.
The photographs, the lies, they all slipped into the back of her mind as their relationship blossomed, feverish and energised now that they were truly together. Ron slipped out of her thoughts, becoming a memory over the next few days. Hell, Draco even tried to be cordial with her parents. It all happened very fast. And about a week later, two weeks early, she returned her blackmail to him, and frightfully expected him to leave.
"This is yours," she said as they sat in her living room. "I've been holding onto it for a while now."
He looked surprised that she handed it to him, and took the manila envelope cautiously. "You're giving it back? Why?"
"It's yours," she said, as though that were obvious. "Oh, please, don't open them here."
The blonde scoffed, shaking his head at her. Watching her, he got up off of her sofa and wandered to the fireplace, starting a flame there. As the room began to heat up and the fire grew, he dropped the envelope into the flames. Hermione jumped up from her seat as he looked back her way.
"What are you doing!? I thought you wanted that!"
He cocked an eyebrow. "You wanted me to keep the naked pictures of myself and another woman?"
"Well… no, but I thought those were important to you. You did after all agree to all of this madness just to get them back, right?"
He chuckled, wandering back to her. Draco kissed her hard before he replied. "Do you know why they were important to me?"
"No," she said, tilting her head at him.
"Those were the photos of a girl I was smitten with at the time. We took them when we were together one night. I kept them after she turned and left, as she was the first girl I ever thought about seriously. When you started this whole blackmail idea, I was still attached to their memories just as I didn't want the media catching wind of them. I would do anything to get them back."
She bit her lip. "And now?"
"Now, I'm entranced with someone new," he said, grabbing her chin. "The photos are obsolete."
He kissed her, proving an example of his explanation. She melted into his touch, and it was many moments before they pulled apart.
"I guess I'm lucky then," she replied, grinning."
And things took off from there. They fell in love over the coming months, alarming her friends and her parents, but despite everything her mother believed in her relationship with Draco more so than the one with Ron. She said there was no doubt lingering in his relationship, and it gave the woman hope. Hermione was elated.
Ron married Lavender six months after they finally, permanently, called off their engagement, and during the same month Ginny gave birth to her and Harry's first child, Albus. Hermione didn't feel any resentment towards her ex on the matter. In a way, they parted from each other in the same mindset, with heavy emotions developing for other people.
Hermione and Draco tied the knot a little over a year after the entire ordeal, for it took a lot longer to woo the cold hearts of Lucius and Narcissa. But they got married despite his father's protests, at least earning his mother's blessing. It was enough of an okay for Draco to go ahead and pop the question.
At the end of the day, he ended up being the only one she could see herself with. He was addictive, sweet, endearing and protective. He loved her, and even willingly gave up his old habits to be with her. It was like a fairytale romance, and he ended up playing the part of an undercover prince, hiding his real self under arrogance and distaste. It only took a bit of compassion to see the real him, and Hermione was glad she did. He ended up being everything she imaged Ron being, but better.
"Everything, hmm?" the blonde asked, his hands sliding up and down her torso. "Well, I suppose that is possible. We are in Toulouse, in my vacation home. The possibilities are endless here in France."
"Yes they are," she agreed, kissing him. "And we have two whole months to ourselves."
He wiggled his eyebrows, brushing his fingers over her breasts, the thin material of her nightgown doing nothing to hide her body beneath. "Yes we do, and we've only been here one night. What would you like to do my love?"
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him down on top of her. "Oh, I have a few ideas," he commented, rolling her hips. He hissed, grinning devilishly down at her before his lips attacked her own. Oh, this was a lifestyle she could get used to.
Love me fully, kiss me hard. It was the motto they'd lived off of since last year, and the words rang true even after so many months. And lying there in the bed, sunrise peeking up behind them, Hermione could see dozens more months in their future. This man was going to be her keepsake.
After all, once you find prince charming, you sure as hell don't let him go.