The walk from the Discipline Chamber, as Narcissa had always called it, was a surprisingly short one for Draco.
In fact, had anyone glimpsed his figure flitting past the various windows, they would've been most bemused. Draco Malfoy was cradling a young woman to his chest and carrying her as gently as one would a child. If you had the benefit of excellent sight the viewer would also have noticed the trademark cascade of curls belonging to Hermione Granger swinging as he walked – although I certainly would never have expected a Malfoy to associate himself with such a Muggleborn… But, for now, let's return to our dear friends.
Draco was so caught up in his own thoughts that it was with a slight jerk of surprise that he realised his feet had taken him to Hermione's door. It was a light wooden door, very simple in design, the only decoration being an ornately carved handle, in the shape of a dazzling butterfly. It fluttered its' wings as they approached, opening the door with a slight click.
It was only then that Draco realised he was entering uncertain territory. He couldn't enter Hermione's bed chamber, could he? That would be so... improper. He paused considering his options. Could he call an elf..? He didn't really want any of the servants to start any gossip about the two being unchaperoned either. He decided. He would would just have to 'grin and bare it,' as his Nanny Clara used to say, whenever he moaned about bath time coming 'much too frequently' for his liking.
He grimaced and marched quickly into her room, the door closing behind him. She began to stir.
'Wha-? Why-? Draco-?' She called out in alarm.
'It is time for that nap, Precious,'
'Draco, why are you doing this? Please let me down,'
'I am helping you into bed,' He replied calmly, as he dropped her onto the sheets and began to flick a throw over her with his wand.
'Draco!' She was outraged, and began to wriggle furiously away from him. Suddenly she noticed her surroundings properly. 'Draco, this is my bedchamber! How dare you? We are not even married and yet you dare to- '
Something inside Draco just snapped.
'Yes I dare, Hermione Granger!' He raised his voice to match hers. ' I dare because in two weeks, you shall be my wife. My property. Mine. In every way...' He smirked at the thought before adding, in a velvety smooth voice, 'So, my sweet, there's no point being like this - as, soon, we shall be so much better... acquainted.'
'Mr Malfoy!' She fumed, covering her eyes with her palms in embarrassment, her cheeks burning a fiery red. 'Please don't insinuate such filth!'
He lowered himself, slowly, onto the bed beside her, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort. One finger brought her face to look at him. 'Oh Hermione…'
She looked up at him, almost defiantly, the rouge in her cheeks still in full bloom.
'That was 'Filth' was it, my sweet?' He murmured softly, a glint of mischief lighting his face, as his imagination hit the gutter.
She bowed her head trying to hide from those sparkling grey eyes, but shivered in the warmth of his body emanating through the blanket he had carelessly covered her in.
Leaning down, so his breath caressed her cheek, he whispered huskily in one ear . 'Just. You. Wait.'
Her head snapped up in shock 'Excuse me-!' she remonstrated in indignation.
He was suddenly swinging himself off the bed and interrupted her swiftly, assuming his previously stern, masterly voice. 'Now Miss Granger, I am putting you down for your nap.'
'But Draco-?' She raised her eyes to the heavens, as her face betrayed the whirl of emotions she was feeling.
Draco chuckled inwardly.
The brightest witch to grace the stone halls of Hogwarts was having such a difficult time understanding what was going on.
He decided to explain, 'Hermione, my dear, you need to sleep each day for a while, all witches do. Malfoy brides are expected to obey their husbands. Now, I expect you to behave nicely. As we know what happens when you misbehave, now don't we?' He smirked, and watched as she bit her lip, restraining herself from screaming the insults that crowded on the tip of her tongue.
Hermione glared into the bedspread. Stupid Malfoy. Stupid punishment. Stupid Hermione, for walking into his trap.
He began to leave and called over his shoulder, 'Oh, I wouldn't try leaving the bed if I were you… I may have cast a spell or two which have some-' He paused biting his lip in mirth, 'Interesting… Side effects'
As he began to close the door behind him he called ' I will call for you in an hour or so, Fiancée, for afternoon tea,'
Hermione threw herself backwards into her pillows. Steam was practically exploding from her ears as she lay there, her anger bubbling. Soon, she sat up again violently with a hiss.
Why was she even here? She didn't have to be here, but of course she had volunteered because she was a Gryffindor and Gryffindors did the right thing.
It was all Seamus's fault, she decided. She lay down once more, screwing up her eyes as she envisaged his face in her mind's eye.
After the war, Hermione and Seamus had spent a lot of time together.
It all began when Madam Pomfrey had owled Hermione begging her to whip up some Skele-grow, as she was nearly out.
The next day, she was asking for Headache Potion, then Pepper-up Solution – the list was never ending.
Hermione ended up living down in the Dungeons, her meals being charmed down to her and transifuring a desk into a bed.
Finally, she begged for some help.
Madam Pomfrey had scoured the halls of Hogwarts for a decent student; and had finally shooed Seamus Finnegan down to help.
Seamus had always been good at Potions and with Snape gone, the stock of Potions were depleting rapidly so Hermione needed any help she could get.
Hermione still remembered him swaggering in, on the first day, rubbing his hands together with a glorious grin and saying in that delicious Irish voice,
'So 'Mione, where shall we start?'
( Hermione would never admit this, but her knees still go weak at the mere thought of that voice. Pure, warm caramel in sound form... )
They got started. She had already categorised what ingredients needed replenishing and had ordered some in from the outlet in Hogsmeade.
She had spent hours wondering around his huge warehouse crammed with the oddest ingredients imaginable.
At once, they began by mixing the Healing Potions together, as they are the hardest to get right and took the longest to complete.
She could still see him, whistling merrily, as he chopped the slivers of Frog's liver into perfect cubes.
This particular Potion took 18 hours of constant brewing and repeated 'clockwise counter-clockwise' stirring in order to have the necessary healing properties and despite the Pepper-Up Potion, Hermione began to flag into the 13th hour.
They had been taking it in turns stirring. But Seamus had gone to go and get food about half an hour ago, and she was in desperate need of a break. Her hair had escaped the clasp at the back of her head, and her arms were sore, her face moist with sweat. She felt herself beginning to slow down in tempo, but couldn't bring herself to go any faster. She knew she needed to, if the Potion was to work. She felt her entire frame begin to shake with the effort.
Strong arms took over, brushing past her waist. She felt a male chest pressing into her back.
'It's alright m'love, I've got it from here,' Seamus had murmured into her ear. His warm, sweet voice created sparks deep inside her, that she had never felt before with him. Very adult sparks.
She was suddenly seeing him as the Man he had become, rather than the Boy who had blown up a feather in Charms all those years ago.
It was in that moment, as she looked up at his handsome, rugged face, which was focussed on the thickening potion.
It was that moment. That was when Hermione Granger fell in lust.
Coming to her senses, she had smiled gratefully, leaning back - just for a second - into his embrace before ducking under his arms and taking a seat by the tray of food he had brought.
She hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not with Ron, not since, Viktor...
She wanted more than anything, to go back into Seamus' arms and to feel him hold her close.
His reputation preceeded him. Infact his skills as a Lover were legendary among the Gryffindors. But he wasn't a man-whore either, he slept with people he genuinely found attractive. Not just anyone. He was said to be a generous lover.
She wanted him to take his time with her.
To tease. She wanted-
'Hermione?'
The future husband was knocking on the door, and she broke out of her reveries of the past.
She decided to play asleep.
Maybe he'd leave her alone to bathe in her memories of Seamus.
She heard the door slide open… Maybe not.
She heard him hesitate in the doorway, his gaze upon her, tracing her body. I
t was a surprisingly long time before she felt a gentle hand shake her shoulder.
'Hermione? Wake up. Call an elf to help you dress for tea.' His voice was low, unalarming and almost compassionate.
Her eyes opened involuntarily, and she saw him once more.
Blonde, lean and very English. Almost exactly opposite to Seamus.
But was that a good thing…?
Another update.. Sorry for the long gap, computer died on me so I lost my original Chapter 2...
Please tell me what you think of this, but no flamers please.
Constructive critisism always welcome, coupled with something nice ;)
One of my reviewers said they were confused as to what was going on?
Fair enough.
Basically, Draco is the possessive and strict fiancee to Hermione Granger.
We don't know yet why in heavens name these two are together, as it plainly isn't love.
Draco has some... values that he intends to... impress upon Hermione, in order to try and make her more suitable and Pureblooded.
That is us pretty much up to date, I think...
If anything else confuses thou, please don't hesitate to ask... Though, just for me if you could not be too blunt, that would be much appreciated.
Thank you so much for reading.
GlassGirl XX 3
