Draco's POV
One cold January afternoon my father called me to his study to tell me the greatest news he had heard of since he was told he wasn't going to Azkaban: "We've found her".
My first reaction was an overwhelming feeling of relief... until he told me to sit down to talk. I could tell by his face something was bothering him. It was really strange to see my father showing any concern over something, so it had to be bad.
Almost immediately I remembered my worst fear. "She's not a witch," I said reluctantly. It was not a question, I just assumed it straight away with a sigh as I let myself fall onto the armchair in front of my father's desk.
"As a matter of fact, she is. And a very experienced one indeed," he said with a deep sigh, but my face instantly lightened up.
"That's great news, father!" I exclaimed, relieved all over again.
I didn't understand why my father looked so stressed out though, but I thought it couldn't be that bad. I was so wrong.
"Well, it is great news. However, the matter will be more difficult than we thought." What could get into a Malfoy's way? I wondered curiously.
"What do you mean, father?"
My father stared at me, analyzing me carefully. "Do you remember that girl...Hermione Granger?"
Sudden shivers run down my spine as I heard that name; not because she scared me, but because I put 2 and 2 together. "What about her?" I stuttered; sweat began to show on my forehead despite the cold weather.
"She happens to be Hermione Zabini, Draco, as you might have figured out."
Mixed feelings washed through my veins. "No...It's not possible." I looked desperately into his eyes, hoping in vain there would be some trace of joking or lying; but my father's face was deadly serious. "There's no chance you're joking, is there?" Disappointment hung over my voice.
"You know I don't joke, boy. Now, listen carefully: She had an accident this morning. Her father and his woman died right away, she was the only survivor. The moment her father died, the enchantments protecting her worn off, and thus, Mrs. Zabini found her immediately. She apparated her into a Hospital where she is currently being stabilized. Your fiancee is in a delicate state, the curse affected her greatly, its effects increased dramatically when her father died, but we believe she'll make it..."
I was barely listening to my father's words, for I was mostly thinking about how my life couldn't get any worse. "Then...she's not a mudblood?" I interrupted him, clearly pissing him off.
"Of course not, boy! The Zabinis are of the purest bloodlines in Europe!"
I was getting so depressed I couldn't even fear my father's anger. "But the basilisk petrified her back on our 2nd year..."
My father then breathed deeply, trying to calm down before answering me. "That stupid creature also petrified a ghost and a cat, Draco." I wished she hadn't been a witch after all, but said nothing.
"Now, son, this is the kind of girl you'll find yourself with when she recovers: She will clearly be devastated over her father's death. It's possible she might have been told her mother died or that her mother was a girlfriend of his father's, so it's quite probable she will have a hard time adjusting to her real mother. This is good for us."
"How come?" I could guess what he had in mind, but was too confused to think straight.
"You'll get a chance to comfort her and change her mind about you!"
"Are you sure there is no way out of this?"
"No, there is not." he said warningly and kept on talking. "So you will have to remake your friendship with Blaise Zabini; that way you'll have plenty of chances to see her and be nice to her. Show her your good side and it won't be so harsh for her when she finds out about your marriage contract. Are we clear?"
My relationship with Blaise was kind of complicated. For a start, we had been very good childhood friends; our mothers were childhood friends, too. Ever since we learned to share our toys, we were friends. Mother says I used to play with Hermione, too.
Of course, we have no recollections of such events, but we have our parents' testimonies and pictures that prove it. I guess my clearer memories of those times start when I was four years old. We started a real friendship and we were best friends until our second year at Hogwarts, when the attacks started.
The thing was, we had different ideas regarding the Dark Lord. The Zabinis believed in blood purity, but they didn't believe in the Dark Lord and his tactics. That didn't bother my family much; actually, it wasn't them who told me to finish my friendship with Blaise, but it was Blaise himself.
His mother, Mrs. Zabini, wisely told him to stay away from every student whose family was somehow related to the dark side; and my family was clearly in that club. He hesitated a lot, but when the rumors of the Chamber of Secrets opening again spread through Slytherin, every parent of the Slytherins found out, and thus, rumors of the Dark Lord were spread too. There already were rumors of him hiding, being half alive and some other weird theories, but the opening of the Chamber made them stronger. Anyway, Mrs. Zabini told Blaise to finish our friendship straight away.
Blaise, being the honorable friend he was, decided to explain the situation to me upfront. "I'm sorry, Draco, but mother warned me not to be your friend anymore. Your family must leave the dark side again in order for us to be friends. She doesn't want us to stain our name being friends with a family with such a...'dark' reputation, you know."
"What do you mean? Your mother doesn't support the Dark Lord?" I didn't understand how a pureblood didn't support him; it was the most normal thing for me.
"No, we don't believe that halfbloods want to take over the wizarding world." He said simply and honestly...and boy, didn't I get upset; even though I didn't want to admit it, I was also hurt. Blaise was my very best friend and he was betraying me because his family couldn't afford to stain their name for what I thought was a good cause. "Well, my family doesn't believe in blood traitors anyway," I sneered...and that was the last time I spoke to him for years.
Regarding our mothers, basically the same had happened to them I guessed. When I told my mother what Blaise had told me, she didn't seem to be upset or impressed; apparently she had been expecting it. All she did was caress my cheek and say: "There are better times to come, Draco." She didn't want to give me any further explanation.
My father, on the other side, told me that when the Dark Lord returned, he would reward his faithful followers. Then I assumed Blaise would respect me and regret betraying me when the Dark Lord rewarded my family...and he would reward me as well because I would become a deatheater. I would be powerful and feared like my father.
Such a stupid dream, I learned.
After Blaise cut ties with me, I didn't trust anyone else to be my friend again. I was fine with my own followers then, Crabbe and Goyle. They were idiots, but if I needed someone bright to talk to, I had Theodore Nott. We kind of were like friends, but not completely. What we had was a mutual and strong respect towards each other; we were on the same level, after all. He understood what I was going through and vice versa, for my father and his parents were deatheaters. We had the same beliefs, and thus, we knew we didn't have to trust each other too much. Our families were equally dangerous.
But as we grew up, I realized Theodore was far crueler than I. He wasn't scared of killing, cursing, torturing...he didn't mind it at all while I couldn't help but vomit only by seeing someone being crucioed. It was clearly established I was the weak one and I hated myself for that. I couldn't be up to my father's standards.
Going back to Blaise, I wondered how was I supposed to talk to him again, how was it going to be like after 6 years? "I think he'll prefer to keep his reputation intact, Father."
My father raised an eyebrow. "I've invested a great amount of money to clean our reputation, Draco. I don't think that will be a problem."
"But we were..." I started but was immediately interrupted.
"...blackmailed, threatened and tortured into following and supporting the dark side. That's what the jury said, always remember that, son; the law is the law."
"That will be of great help to flirt with Granger." As I said that with sarcasm over my voice, I realized the horrible fate that was expecting me once again.
"Zabini, Draco, Hermione Zabini."
"Her last name doesn't change who she is."
"Well, try thinking otherwise. My father didn't get dragon pox accidentally after all." It wasn't a suggestion, it was a warning. It was very weird hearing my father mentioning his own.
"He died because of the curse, didn't he? But why?" How could that be? My parents had always been very respectful of traditions and death threats.
"Let's say your mother didn't like the idea of us getting married at first. She didn't change her mind soon enough."
I could hardly believe someone as strict as my mother would try to fight such an antique tradition; it was a side of her I would have never imagined. As I thought about her, I realized how effective the curse was in order to make sure any opposition to the marriage contract was eliminated: I wasn't going to let my mother die.
The next day I found myself in the Zabinis' waiting room, where Blaise met me. He wasn't surprised to see me.
"What brings you here, to a blood traitor's humble house?" There was a hint of humor on his voice.
"I just wanted to see how you were doing, and perhaps talk. You know, blood traitor to blood traitor."
"You are old enough to tell better lies," he chuckled.
"Yeah, I should work on that. What do you want me to do? Apologize for what you did?"
"You still hate me for that, huh?"
I sneered but said nothing. He looked as full of himself as I usually did.
"I'd apologize, but that's not what you came here for anyway."
I thought an apology wouldn't be bad, but even if he did, it would make no difference. We were not going to be friends again just like that.
"What do you think I'm here for?"
"Well, if it's not moral support, it must be some wicked plan to gain my sister's trust which involves me somehow, probably as a link."
"Aren't you bright? Just like her," I mocked him.
It was his time to sneer. "So, what is it you want to do?"
"Let's hang out again, let's pretend to be friends. That way it will be easier for me to get closer to her and get her to trust me."
"That is she bonds with me first." He raised an eyebrow. "But even if she did, I don't think it will be that easy for anyone to get her to trust you. A love potion would be easier."
"Do you think I haven't thought about that? It wouldn't work. She cannot be under the effects of any kind of magic in the ceremony."
"I was thinking really little doses. Not a very strong potion, of course. She would fall for you slowly, after some weeks you'd take it off, some days before the wedding, she would feel very confused, but she probably wouldn't refuse getting married."
"You really don't want to meet her, do you?"
"It's not something I'm looking forward to."
"You never did. You're still jealous, Zabini." I chuckled at this. It was funny, after so long, he was still the same. Blaise had always been jealous about his sister; after all, it was her who Mrs. Zabini cried over for so long, who she tried to get back every year on his birthdays. It had always been her who was the source of his mother's depressions, and it was her whom Mr. Zabini had taken with him. And now that she was back, she was going to be the only center of attention.
"I'm not interested. That's all." He tried to act indifferently.
"It's ok, Blaise. I'm not looking forward to see her either. Less marry her." I shrugged.
"...and have children with her." He smirked, knowing the thought would disturb me.
And it sure did. I looked horrified, I hadn't thought about that. "Don't tell me you didn't think about that! What do you think these marriage contracts were established for in the first place? To ensure pure bloodlines of course!"
Reality hit me like a sack of bricks and I let myself fall onto a couch. I was going to have children with Granger. "Dammit." I said out loud.
"And I bet you'll have five daughters before a boy is born." He laughed and I stared at him with hatred in my eyes. "Don't say that! You'll jinx me you idiot!"
He smirked once again. "Don't worry, that's only if she lets you touch her."
"It could be the end of the Malfoy name." I realized painfully. "I can't let that happen." That hurt even more.
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Present:
A strong argument could be heard on the insides of Grimmauld Place, where one Harry Potter lived.
"How could you, Hermione? How?!" Exclaimed a very upset Ron Weasley as he walked in circles. His face was red with anger.
"I couldn't fight it any longer, Ron. And there was no way out...you know that." Hermione had been expecting such an outrage from him, but it was hard to bare it anyway; besides, she had arrived an hour ago.
"But we could have found a way! We only needed more time!"
"My father spent sixteen years trying to find a way, Ronald! And he is dead!" She almost cried in desperation.
"Shut up, Ron!" Harry warned him and squeezed Hermione's hand. "We understand." He assured her soothingly. Hermione knew Ron understood the situation, too... he just didn't want to accept it.
Ron shut up and sat onto a couch. Anyone could tell he was still rambling and cursing in his mind, but at least it was in silence.
"So, why didn't you invite us to the wedding?" Harry tried to change the tone of the conversation. She sighed dramatically and stared to the ceiling.
"It was all so fast, Harry. After Lucius Malfoy died, I began battling with the decision, I told you. I was sure then that there was no way out, but it was so hard to admit and to accept my...fate."
"It wasn't your fate!" Ron interrupted.
"How can you tell, Ron? Can you see the future now? Haven't you thought that perhaps it actually was my fate?" She snapped. Ronald Weasley was 19 years old and still was as immature as the first time she met him.
"Come on, Ron. Let her speak."
Ron mumbled something; Hermione waited a good 30 seconds for him to shut up again.
"A week after his funeral, I was having the afternoon tea with my mother and Narcissa Malfoy in our Manor. They commented, as they usually did, that it was a lovely time of the year to get married. Right then I didn't want to fight it anymore...so, instead of dismissing their subtle attempts; I said yes...I said I would get married. That was yesterday."
Hermione sighed deeply once again, this time to regain her breath. Ron looked even more furious than before, but Harry's warning looks kept him quiet.
"The moment I finished my sentence, both women set their tea cups on the table, got up and grabbed me by my hands. My mother took me to my room to dress me up, as Narcissa went to the fireplace to start calling some must-be guests. There was very little time, so they only invited family. "
"You could've invited us to the banquet." Ron mumbled. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't go to the banquet either." It was Hermione's turn to get furious. It was amazing how Ron could think about food in a situation like this.
"Why not?" Harry asked, trying to calm Hermione down again.
"I left when the ceremony was finished. I couldn't take it."
"How did Malfoy take it?"
"Malfoy? He didn't mind. I guess everyone was expecting me to leave in anger. He apparated in front of me a moment after I left. Everything happened so fast..."
"You didn't sleep through the night, did you?" Those damn dark circles still lingered underneath Hermione's eyes, her hair was lamely tied into a bun which seemed to be about to fall apart, her robes were the first thing she found in her closet and put them on without a second thought. Had she not found her friends in Harry's place, she would have fallen sleep on the floor.
"I bet Malfoy kept her busy," Ron sneered.
Before Harry could say something, Hermione got up and slapped Ron straight in the face. Needless to say, Ron was dumbfounded.
Hermione said nothing; she only stared at him with a dreadful look. Ron soon had a red mark on his cheek. Almost a minute passed by before Hermione spoke: "I guess Malfoy was right."
A single tear run down her cheek, she closed her eyes and dissaparated, leaving both boys behind.
"You couldn't have been more stupid, could you?" Harry exclaimed in anger.
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Hermione apparated into her parents' living room, which was actually hers since they had died. And Draco knew it was his as well since they were married.
That's why he was comfortably sitting there reading "The Complete Wizard's Guide to a Healthy Relationship", a book which he suddenly closed and subtly hid when he heard a very devastated Hermione arrive.
"You are here." She acknowledged, not expecting him to be there. Hermione decided she would not inquire why because it would certainly lead to a fight in which he would claim this was his house too and she would deny it somehow.
It was easier to accept reality, at least for what was left of the day. She had no strength left at all.
"What happened?" Draco asked and motioned for her to sit next to him.
She didn't hesitate at all as she dropped down beside him. Something had to be very wrong, Draco thought.
Hermione sighed dramatically and let her head fall onto the couch. "Ron is an idiot," she whispered sadly. Draco suppressed a smile.
"I am so tired."
Draco realized this was one of those precious situations he had to take advantage of, but do so very carefully for her not to notice. He slowly put an arm around her and recalling Blaise's tactful advice on how to comfort Hermione, he began: "Don't worry about him. He'll get over it and you'll be okay." He almost failed at suppressing his content tone.
She said nothing ...that could mean two things: (a) Hermione was actually listening to him, or (b) she had fallen asleep.
After making sure she was not sleeping with her eyes open, he tried very hard to put on a more serious facade. "Just give him time to get used to it."
She nodded and, Draco noticed, almost put her head on his shoulder. He was about to say "You can trust me", but it would have been too obvious. He had to think of something better, something subtle, and something she would like.
"Everything will be fine, you'll see." Okay, the phrase didn't exactly involve him, but at least she would remember he comforted her.
When she finally spoke, she just burst out: "Things are hard enough without him behaving like an insufferable prat, you know? Instead of putting away his anger and comforting me in a difficult situation, he acts as if he was the victim of the whole thing!"
"I know," he nodded and smiled to himself; she would remember his agreeing with her.
"On the other hand, I guess he has the right to be upset...we could have had a second chance..." She sighed and lowered her eyes to the floor. "Perhaps it's better this way..."
Draco wondered what a friend who wanted to be more than a friend would say in this situation to his advantage without the object of his desire noticing. If he agreed with her, she would later realize he was using his manipulation skills; if he told her otherwise, there was a chance she would recognize he had a good side; of course, there was also a chance that she would take that as a manipulation too, but it was his best shot.
"No, it's not." She looked up at him in surprise. "He is your friend; you shouldn't give up on him just because he is upset. He'll come around. It's not the first time you two have had a fight, now is it?"
"No...There have been plenty. But...this one is different." She looked down to the floor again.
It seemed he had chosen correctly.
"Well, it's not like you can't be friends anymore, you just can't be in love any longer." He knew it wasn't the smartest move, but he had to make sure he hadn't given her any hope of getting back together with the weasel.
"I know," she sighed in defeat and closed her eyes.
A minute of silence later, he was sure she had fallen asleep.
This was another of those crucial moments with her where he had to think which was the most convenient move. He knew he had to be the gentleman type, but what would be better? Let her sleep on the couch or take her to her room, risking waking her up in the process?
Torn between his desires for her and the convenience of making things right, he decided he would take her to her room. The levitating charm could wake her up and apparating would definitely wake her up; so the only choice he had was the muggle way.
He took her in his arms slowly, trying not to wake her up. Her weight wasn't a problem for him, he noticed; and she didn't even stir while he carried her to the room, she even seemed to be comfortable.
What a shame she wasn't aware of this moment, Draco thought.
As he carefully laid her down onto the bed, he acknowledged that even though she was kind of unkempt, she looked sweet in her sleep.
He had to fight the urge to cuddle with her or perhaps take her robes off to make her more comfortable and instead he stepped away.
As he contemplated her sleeping figure, he hoped she would remember what he had just done for her. And also that she wouldn't explode when she found out he had replaced the furniture of her parents' former bedroom because he didn't want to sleep in the bed that belonged to dead people and the closet was too small for all of his clothes and hers.
If he was lucky, she would wake up in a good mood and wouldn't mind that all of her clothes had been moved to the other room, nor his mother's decision to redecorate that room for them. Hopefully she wouldn't complain about all those boxes with his other belongings spread around the house.
Perhaps she would see the bright side and realize he had not told any house-elves to arrange everything for him, he had decided to do it himself in the normal-magical way.
He had even managed to bring Crookshanks with him, he had to stupefy the annoying animal to stop it from hurting him, but Hermione didn't need to know that.
Draco seriously considered preparing some elixir to induce euphoria for her. The problem was getting her to drink it, it couldn't be added to food or drink after all. What could be added to food or drink was a love potion...he had been considering Blaise's old idea of feeding her a love potion in small doses, but perhaps it wouldn't be necessary. She had just allowed him to comfort her after all, and he had been good!
Perhaps his "Guide to a Healthy Relationship" was working.
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A/N: The more reviews I get, the faster I'll feel like writing next chapter. How do you like it this far? Constructive criticism always welcome. :)
